Home Alone
by Supernova95
Summary: Tim's parents leave him at home all the time and Tim is forced to grow up far too soon. Until he is sent to Wayne Manor to live and gets the *still less than normal* childhood he deserves.
1. Timeline

**So Glimare had this BRILLIANT idea to include a Timeline for her 'Daddy, Not Bats' (which is really good by the way) story, and so I am kinda stealing it because these chapters won't be written in order… so check back here for placement in time and space *que Doctor Who music* XD**

**So I have put this chapter first, the new chapter will be marked with an asterix.**

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**Timeline:**

Godfather

Do Unto Others

The Nanny

Moon Watching

Fire

Creative Thinking

Ice Cream

Nightmares

Of Vases and Broken Things

The Tooth Fairy

Swings

*Let Me Beat Them Up

It's Only Magic

Sick

Costume Shopping

Bag Packing

Tokyo

Tokyo 2

Phineas and Ferbathon

Fear | Worry

Halloween

Christmas

Happy Birthday Tim

It's Just Not Possible

Learning To Cry


	2. Ice Cream

**I'm sorry I was bored on a REALLY long car journey and cute little neglected Tim just seemed to um; happen :/**

**So enjoy a bit of cute little neglected Tim... and PLEASE review :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any Batman related characters... as much as I want to I don't :(**

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All he wanted was some ice cream, who could blame a kid for wanting ice cream? Now he was cowering in a cupboard because soon his parents would come home and find the mess... He didn't mean to leave a mess; he really didn't. He was just climbing up the counter and he slipped, his foot catching on a cupboard door. Now his shin was bleeding and the cupboard's contents was spilled over the floor and too heavy for Tim to lift back into place.

His leg really hurt but he daren't come out of his cupboard because his parents would shout at him and he hated shouting, it made his ears ring, his cheeks and ears heat up and it made him cry. The shouting used to be between his parents but now it was mostly directed at him. For getting his P.E. kit muddy; for not making his bed; not dusting his room everyday; for not folding his clothes perfectly; for not stacking the dishwasher in the correct way; for putting dishes straight in the dishwasher without rinsing them first. It didn't matter what it was; Tim just couldn't seem to match up to the perfect expectations of his parents.

So he had resorted to hiding in a cupboard clutching his legs into his chest and crying his eyes out, waiting for the inevitable that never came... hours passed and nothing, no shouting, loud noises... no parents.

Then everything crumbled into a cacophony of sound. Sirens were screaming outside, car tyres screeched to a halt, voices shouted but the house muffled the words. Then they knocked on the door... and he didn't know what to do so he cuddled himself closer to the back of the cupboard, away from the light made by the crack between the cupboard door and it's frame.

There was a brief moment of silence that lasted an eternity before Tim heard the door being unceremoniously broken down. It wasn't a very strong door; just wood. His parents had decided against strengthening the door, instead putting the money towards one of their globe trotting trips... There was nothing precious that they left in the house after all. One day Tim really wanted to go with them on one of their trips. They sounded fun, interesting; but as the shouts of "clear" rang through the house he supposes thats not going to happen.

The scene going on outside the cupboard door played through his head. He had seen it enough; hanging around outside the door to the living room late at night, too scared about being out of bed in the middle of the night to venture in and ask for comfort from his parents. They would be watching late night crime dramas and he would have had a nightmare... usually about the circus, and there were plenty of scenes he saw whilst debating the predicament he found himself in about police, the FBI, the ATF or people similar storming houses and shouting clear... usually it was because bad people lived there. Does this mean he was a bad person? He didn't mean to be a bad person. He tried really really hard to be good. He really did. Usually he couldn't match up to what his parents wanted from him, but he still tried. He didn't want to be taken away because he sometimes forgets to clean his room or because he sometimes he did things wrong, like wanting ice cream and spilling the contents of a cupboard on the floor.

He heard them come into the kitchen and he started shaking tears silently running down his cheeks when he didn't hear the men shout "clear" rather he heard muffled talking and then a call, not a shout, of;

"Sarge... we've got a blood trail in here." and then he heard them coming closer to the sanctuary he had made in the cupboard at the back of the larder. He sobbed harder, dimly aware that they would now probably be able to hear him, but he really didn't care. He wished Dick was there because he would snuggle his arms around him and draw him into his chest and hug him and reassure him that everything would be alright. He really wanted to be given a hug; because he supposed this was a situation where he should be given a hug... right? He had only really had hugs from Dick and Mr Wayne and Jason. They were nice people he liked them. He supposed they wouldn't like him now... wouldn't give him anymore hugs because he was a bad person and he was going to be taken away and they would see him as the bad person he is. Because he tries to tell them whenever he's at their house; that he is a bad person, that that's why his parents leave him alone so much... because he messes things up. That's usually when they hug him and share a look that he can't place, an expression he doesn't know.

The shadows of the people stopped outside the cupboards, the light shining through the crack suddenly greatly diminished and the door opened. Tim doesn't think that he's ever been the object of so many people's attention all at once. Even at school not **that** many people pay attention to him, and none of them wear relieved smiles, not like these people.

"Hey little guy, we're not gonna hurt you, but we need you to come out of the cupboard. Can you do that for us?" he blinked a couple of times and slowly nodded before uncurling and crawling out of his sanctuary. Immediately one of the people in front of him scooped him up so that his legs were either side of their waist and his head could rest on their shoulder. He did so gladly, he was so scared and tired that any form of comfort; be it resting against a heavily armoured shoulder, was like slipping into heaven.

"Commissioner; we've found him"

"Is he okay?"

"For the most part. He's scared silly, but mainly unharmed" words were left unsaid, but Tim could tell they were there... not telling him everything was a part of life he was very much accustomed to. An un-armoured man stepped into Tim's field of view.

"Hello Tim, I'm Jim Gordon. I'm the Police Commissioner" he looked friendly, he had whitening hair, a whitish moustache, big black glasses and was waring a suit under a black GCPD bullet proof vest with a brown trench coat over the top. For some reason Tim trusted him so he grinned a little when a smile was sent in his direction.

"Does that mean that you're important?" the man in front of him chuckled a little

"You could say that. I'm in charge of the Gotham City Police Force" he didn't let Tim come up with a reply but instead got straight down to business, he **was** a busy man Tim supposed. "Your parents aren't going to be home for a while and we don't want you saying at home all alone-"

"Why?" he shouldn't have interrupted, it's rude to interrupt. His moment of fear at what the police commissioner would do because he rudely interrupted him must have shown on his face because the man's brow immediately creased into an expression he... didn't recognise, but it was the same one that the Wayne's shared whenever he talked about his parents at their house. He could tell the man wasn't angry at him... he knew when someone was angry... but he didn't know this expression, maybe if he explained himself the man would understand, or he would understand the man.

"My parents leave me at home all the time when they go on their trips, or go out for the evening, or to dinner, or out on business. They said I could go too; when I'm older. But at the moment I need to stay at home be a good boy and not to break anything... I wasn't a good boy today, 'cause I broke the cupboard door and I couldn't put back the pans that fell onto the floor because they're too heavy... and I cut my leg on the door and I didn't clean up the mess I made and so mommy and daddy will be mad at me when they come home and-" he realised he was hyperventilating and tears were flowing down his cheeks. It was getting hard to breath let alone talk.

He expected the man to be mad at him, to shout at him how stupid he was for not cleaning up after himself... to send him to his room. Instead he found himself being smothered by the man's chest in a gentle... hug? The man rested the bottom of his chin against Tim's head and so it gave him a funny sensation when ever the man talked to the person who had carried him out of the house.

"Where did you find him?"

"In a cupboard. I thought the sirens had scared him into hiding there but I think he was scared of his-" the commissioner cut him off with a small nod that Tim felt on the top of his head.

"How old did you say he was?"

"Eight"

"You're joking... he looks no more than five at best" Tim had always been smaller than everyone else in his class, he was bullied about it, picked last in P.E. because of it, even his parents brought it up now and again when they were angry at him. He was used to it.

The police commissioner put his feet back on the floor and crouched down to his level so that he could make eye contact "Tim, your parents may have left you alone in the house a lot, but we don't like that, it's dangerous. So your going to be staying with your neighbour, Mr Wayne, for a while. Is that okay?" Tim's face brightened at the mention of Mr Wayne. He liked the Waynes. They were nice and fun and made him smile and hugged him and tickled him, and made him happy in a way his parents never did.

"Yes please, I would like that a lot."

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**Thank-you for reading **

**Please Review :D**


	3. Moon Watching

**So I just had a really big panic attack because a huge may bug was in my room and I have a HUGE fear of bugs (and no standing under the tree we were tree beating for bugs in year 10 didn't help; didn't help one bit -_-*) so decided to write this because I have to calm down my hyperventilation :)**

**Also I had a few people asking for more... therefore I give you more... and an incomplete storyline... so a promise of more to come yet (I like this verse what can I say?) ;)**

**Disclaimer: As much as I want to own Tim and take him home and hug him and make him do my Further Maths homework because it's really hard and he is practically a genius... I don't and he belongs to DC of whom I am very envious because I LOVE TIMMY! so I will contiue to write fics abot him because he is just so cute and cuddley :P so there...**

**This happens BEFORE the previous installment :)**

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Tim huddles his knees to his chest as he sat on the small window pane; watching the strong silent moon slowly rise over the eastern horizon. This was always the time it appeared biggest, and he liked looking at it; studying it. Tonight there was a mist hanging over the sea, giving the rising moon a beautiful golden glow. Its mare and craters, exaggerated by the satellite's size, brought a glint of wonder to his eyes. It still marvelled him how the moon could be so battered and bruised and yet still look so beautiful. He wished he could be the same.

He loved spending his nights out on his little ledge, especially when his parents were away. The moon... gave him company, even if it was an inanimate lump of rock. He loved thinking about all the old tales about the moon, like the man in the moon, or hey-diddle-diddle, and even some different cultures such as the Navajo tales of spirits, or the ancient Egyptian customs surrounding Nut and Geb. However by far was the moon spirit tale from Avatar: The Last Airbender. He sometimes imagined, when he was out in the garden, that he was a bender... sometimes he even imagined himself the Avatar... until his parents came outside and told him to stop such foolishness. That it was unbecoming of him. That he should act more grown up. He silently wondered if other kids his age were allowed to play outside, probably not... it was his parents who told him to stop, and his parents knew best; his parents knew how a five-year-old **should** act. He just found it hard sometimes, as hard as he tried he still made mess and acted in a way unbecoming of him.

He really hated disappointing his parents. When he did the house always seemed to erupt in noise that made his ears ring for hours. It was times like those when he would sit at his window and watch the world go by... which is what he was doing now. But tonight was special, because tonight was when his parents got home from a three month long expedition to Inca settlements in South America.

As much as they loved owning and running Drake Industries his parents also loved going on archaeological expeditions. Really loved it. They usually went on four or five a year, lasting usually only a month long and always leaving Tim behind, he was too young and too fragile for the expeditions. His mom had been so upset for the first couple of months after Tim had been born because she thought that she would never get to go on an expedition ever again.

_"Jack, Jack what do we do? I-I-We...we can't just leave him... can we?"_

That was when Tim got his first child-minder. He had child-minders until he turned five and his parents deemed him capable of looking after himself when they were gone, and child-minders for such long periods of time were expensive were they not? It was passed on as an honour, a graduation of sorts; he supposed all five year olds went through it... right?

That was why he never mentioned it at school; everyone's parents did it... why should his do anything different? And he was pretty good at looking after himself, he figured out the dishwasher and washing machines after a couple of days. He was really relieved that he did because he was close to hyperventilation at the mess he was leaving around the house; well at least in the kitchen and his room. He had also found the step ladder after the first week, so he could reach the shelves in the larder instead of just using the tins on the floor. It also meant he could cook on the hobs of the oven without needing to climb on the worktops. Ironing still presented a problem. The first time he was at home alone he had tried, after he had found the step ladder, to iron his newly washed clothes. After turning it on and waiting for a while... like he had seen the nanny do he picked it up with one hand around the handle and one on the metal plate. His screams of pain and the tears rolling down his cheeks notified him that that was a big mistake. His hand was a redie-pinkie colour that was turning into a white blister. He immediately ran to the bathroom and ran the cold water; because that's what he saw his mom do when she hurt herself on the iron one time, climbing on top of the toilet to be able to reach; he ran his hand under it. The cold water was... soothing and he remained there for as long as he dared, before his breathing started to hitch because too much water was being wasted. When his parents returned home and saw his hand all wrapped up in a bandage they stared at him in disappointment, when they unwrapped it and saw what he had done they told him how stupid he had been, how he needed to grow up and stop messing things up. He would be starting school that autumn after all. He couldn't be seen to be this stupid; Drakes we're not stupid. He quickly told them; begged them-

_"I'm sorry. Mommy daddy, I'm really really sorry. Please; mommy, daddy I didn't mean to, please don't start shouting at me. Please. I didn't mean to. I promise I'll do better, I'll try harder. I promise I won't be stupid; I'll be a better son... Just please don't shout at me... please..."_

- that he would do better and to please not shout, because shouting led to him crying and him crying led to his parents getting angrier at him and locking him in his room. Keeping him in there until he could learn how to take care of himself properly... Because obviously he couldn't do **anything** without their help-

"_Such a failure, how could we raise such a child? How could __**our**__ son make such a mess of everything he does?"_

- only letting him out for meal times; making him clear up to prove that he could sort out the mess that he leaves all over the place. Not seeming to care that the water was too hot for his already damaged hands.

But Tim knew why they did it. They loved him; he was their son, their only child, their heir. He had to be the best man he could be, they had a responsibility to make him that man, so they make him learn from his mistakes; teaching him how to act; how to be a Drake because they loved him; because how could they not?

So he welcomes being at home alone, because he will be their perfect heir. Who doesn't care if he's called names by the people at school. Who can look people in the eye when he's being shouted at. Who can take the punishment he deserves when he messes things up. Because he's like a block of un-carved marble. A blank slate that his parents slowly chisel away at, making him rougher to begin with, making him dim and polishless and needing to be refined further; but one day he will be polished; one day he will be a perfect gleaming white marble statue; toned in all appropriate acts of a Drake; buffed and sparkling white marble, pure and pristine. Like the perfect son he should be.

His parents go away and it's another chunk of marble falling off, being discarded, shaping who he is. But that's okay because they do it because they love him. So he sits at his window in the dead of night watching the moon rise, using it to count down the hours until they get home.

_-The earth rotates at one degree every four minutes-_

The textbook in the library had said. So he counts in degrees, still twenty degrees to go before they get home, before they walk through the door;

And he smiles.

Smiles because all he's ever wanted was to be his parents' perfect son. He's been trying really really hard lately. He hasn't made a mess that he's unable to clear up in weeks. Then again he also is wearing un-ironed cloths… and trying as hard as he can to eat cold foods so he doesn't have to go near the things that make him hurt, that make him waste water, that make his parents shout at him; because he hates shouting… because all he ever wants to be when he grows up is someone his parents can be proud of, someone who doesn't make mess, who doesn't break things, who doesn't curl up on himself and cry when the other boys at school shove him and call him rude names because he's a tiny little rich kid who in his sheltered existence is easy pickings. He wants to be a polished block of perfect white marble. He wants to be a Drake.

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**THANK-YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH FOR READING! **

**Please review... and if you want anything to be written in this verse (or any of my other stories) I am COMPLETELY open to prompts, just review or PM me ;)**

**(That's my way of begging for reviews) **

**Thanks again **

**Supernova95 XD **


	4. Bag Packing

**Wooo... UPDATE!**

**I apologize if this makes no sense... please tell me if it doesn't because I wrote it in a delirium due to illness and I have read it through multiple times and it makes sense to me... but I'm still kinda ill so I hope it's okay...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman**

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"No, no, that's fine... yes, we'll be there tomorrow... no I don't mind as long as the hotel has no restriction on hyperactive kids... thank-you... yes see you tomorrow" he hung up the phone and let his business man façade melt away into his less; prim, proper and elaborate daddy face. His true face... or at least one side of it. It had taken Tim a week to figure it out. Why they all disappeared in the middle of the night, and he was ashamed that it took him so long. He was usually really good at spotting changes in behaviour, his parents had taught him well in that area.

Then he was stuck.

Should he tell them? He knew their secret, probably the biggest secret in the world and he shouldn't... if they found out they would probably shout at him and he didn't like being shouted at... and then they send him away to live with another family. He had grown quite attached to this one, he didn't want to move. He was... happier? here. Was that the right word? He had certainly never felt this emotion before with his parents, he thought he had, but it had never felt like this... he had wanted to ask Dick but thought better of it. He was supposed to know... he was supposed to be smart, supposed to be a Drake. How was he supposed to be a Drake when he didn't even know what happiness was?

He had decided against sharing his newly found knowledge, he let them go on with their happy façade, they gave him hugs... Smiled at him, talked at a normal volume and he didn't want that to change because of some stupid misguided notion that they would want him if he knew; if he became a liability. Because that was what he was... A liability to the mission; a thorn in The Batman's side; it was all they needed to get rid of him, send him away to another city, another state, another country... never to be seen again. Never to grow up to be the man he was supposed to be. To disappoint his parents... again.

So he won't tell them, won't give them a reason to shout. He'll be the perfect little boy sitting in his pristine room on immaculate sheets because he likes what he has here in this big, but full and happy house. He'll make Mr Wayne, and Alfred, and Dick and Jason proud. Because he can. Because that is what he has been brought up to do.

"Boys" Mr Wayne's voice rang out clear throughout the whole manor. It was tired yet happy. Dick and Jason bounded in with a playful look of 'sorry we were just wrestling about nothing important; but it was fun'. They smiled at Mr Wayne, and Mr Wayne smiled at them. "Pack your bags we are going to Tokyo for the weekend" radiant smiled broke over the two older boys "Mr Hashimura just called and wants to seal our future business venture in person" smiles turned into enthusiastic fist pumps and whoops as they raced each other back upstairs to their rooms.

Mr Wayne flashed him a small smile, it looked awkward, full of the emotion Tim didn't know how to define and definitely wasn't as full of love was the one he had given Dick or Jason. Tim held no delusions; how could they love him as much as they obviously love each other? They didn't want him; not really. The police had just thrown him on their doorstep one evening. Looking after him a few times and taking him in permanently were two completely different things. They were probably already tired with how he messed all the time. How he couldn't look after himself correctly, how he couldn't act like an eight year old; like his parents taught him to.

He slowly followed Dick and Jason upstairs and along their corridor, passing their rooms on the way to his own. They were shouting at each other through the walls, something about ice cream and manga companies and watersides. As he closed the door it was too muffled to tell what was said next.

"Boys, how are you getting on? The plane's scheduled for take-off in an hour... Boys?... Tim? Are you almost done?" Almost done? Almost done for what? His name rang out loud and clear again and his breathing hitched a little. He couldn't remember being set at chores, he in fact hadn't been set any since he got to the house... had he been and he didn't realise it? And now that they were leaving for the week-end were they checking? Because they couldn't have an inept person looking after the house when they were gone; could they? They were coming closer and he didn't know what to do. His breathing quickened, even though getting air into his lungs had never been harder. He was hyperventilating, tears stinging the corners of his eyes. Their shadows were outside his door, and they were going to come it and tell him that his is a disappointment, and inadequate boy. And then they were going to send him away. The tears were free flowing down his checks as the sturdy oak door silently swung open. They four figures were silhouetted for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the light streaming into his dark room from the hallway outside. He hadn't bothered turning on his bedroom light... He liked the dark, it was comforting; but at the moment he wished his room was darker... A black hole, so he could hide in it and not have to face whatever was coming next.

He could still hear his violent intakes of breath.

"Little brother?" a pet name, he was never going to be their little brother, he wasn't worth that title, ad he never would be. "Little brother what's wrong?" his breathing didn't slow in fact he hyperventilated faster. He opened his mouth and Dick and Jason were next to each other in the blink of an eye.

"I'm sorry" it was barely a whisper, but they heard it anyway.

"Sorry for what Babybird?" how could they not understand, they had asked him to do something... possibly multiple things and he hadn't so he was sorry. He was sorry so that they wouldn't be disappointed, sorry so they wouldn't shout, sorry to show that he could do things himself.

He looked to the piece of quilt he could see between his crossed legs and then scrunched his eyes tight when he spoke again... he didn't want to see the disappointment on their faces.

"You asked me if I was almost done… I don't know what I had to do… and so I haven't done it… so I'm sorry" if he had glanced up he would have seen the looks of utter bemusement on the four older men's faces; but he didn't, he didn't want to risk the gut wrenching feeling in his stomach that he got when he hadn't done what his parents had told him to. When he did look up he saw Dick's face beaming down at him.

"That's okay Timmy, we're going to Tokyo-" he nodded, he knew this. He just didn't know what they asked him to do when they were there. He felt himself tearing up again because he didn't want to disappoint them when they were away; just like he hadn't wanted to disappoint his parents either.

"I know, I just don't know what you want me to do when you're away." Dick looked utterly confused. What was there to be confused about; they were about to go on an important trip and they wanted him to do something in the manor when they were gone. Why couldn't they just tell him what it was so he can get on with it? He really would do anything just so they weren't disappointed in him. But Dick was smiling again... maybe he understood now.

"Nothing" it was an adamant statement... And he was still smiling. Now it was Tim's turn to look confused.

"Nothing?"

"Yup Babybird; nothing, apart from coming with Dick and me to get ice cream, eat Japanese, go on water slides, visit manga companies, or just generally hand out in **Tokyo**, Baby B, Tokyo"

"You... You want me to come too?" it was a voice of disbelief. When he saw their nods he couldn't help but shake his head. They didn't, mean it. They didn't know him, didn't know how he messed things up, how he was a stupid eight year old that it still too scared to go near an iron, who can't be the son his parents wanted him to be. "No... No I can't. I can't because this is an important business deal for Mr Wayne and I can't come because I mess things up. And I don't want to mess things up for you because you've been really nice to me and you've made me laugh... and... and I'm too young to go on business trips yet; my parent's said so... Because I messed things up. So I stayed at home, because I could mess things up less there."

"Tim, if you really don't want to come I'm sure Alfred will stay home with you" he creased his brow. Mr Wayne was a parent; why didn't he understand? He shook his head again.

"But you need Mr Pennyworth; Mr Wayne. I can look after myself. I have since I was five" the eyes of the four men flew wide when he said that and Mr Wayne came and knelt down in front of him.

"Tim, I don't know what you've even told, but you don't mess anything up. In fact quite the opposite. I don't think I have met a better behaved eight year old... and yes that does include those two terrors." embarrassed smiles broke out. "If you really don't want to go to Tokyo then you don't have to, Alfred will stay home too and look after you, but you're not allowed to stay home on your own, and I don't care what your parents said or did, leaving a five year old at home alone is wrong." he wanted to protest; they were his parents and his parents were never wrong, but he didn't because he remembered that it was rude to interrupt people when they were talking. "So do **you** want to come to Tokyo?, because I would really like you to, and I've heard you're quite the photographer; I think we need some pictures around this manor to brighten things up a bit. Don't you?" it took him a couple of seconds to register what he had just been told because-

His parents couldn't have been wrong; could they? They were his parents... wasn't it alright for a five year old to look after himself? And he did mess things up, what about that vase he broke his first week here? But they were so nice... and he really would like to go to Japan, because he had read a lot of books about Japan and it seemed like an interesting place. A place where old meets new in an infusion of colour and lights and tradition, and awesome martial arts.

He was so confused he really didn't know what he was supposed to do. Why couldn't they just tell him what he was supposed to do? He felt his heart beat rise, his breathing become shallower, small hiccups caught in his throat. Then the dam broke, tears came flooding out of his eyes and he launched himself at Mr Wayne, who caught him in a hug with open arms and a slight chuckle.

"I'm guessing that's a yes then." Tim nodded into Mr Wayne's shirt because he didn't want to look up and for Mr Wayne to change his mind. He let go when he had finally run out of tears and ended up smiling with excitement... he was going to Tokyo...

"Will you two help Tim pack? I have a few last minute phone calls to make" and with that he glided out of the room; Alfred quickly in tow.

Packing a weekend bag for Tim wasn't exactly difficult, everything in his room was in place, clothes folded in draws, or hanging in the wardrobe... not at all like Dick and Jason's rooms where everything was strewn all over the place. Five minutes and they were done, and in the manor's entrance hall with Dick giving Tim a piggy-back and Jason dumping their three bags by the door. Mr Wayne and Alfred came out of Mr Wayne's office a couple of minutes later. Mr Wayne had his fists clenched, his jaw set and his eyes dark. He had been in an argument; Tim could tell that. It was the same look his dad had on his face after he had shouted at Tim. Mr Wayne's expression melted away the instant he saw them... his dad's never had. His dad could stay angry at Tim for hours sometimes even days. Tim always deserved it though. His mom and dad were only ever angry at him when he did something wrong, when he messed up, when he wasn't acting his age like he was supposed to. Mr Wayne was angry at a lot of people (especially himself) but not at them; never at them. Even though he should be. He should be angry at Tim for a lot of things, but he never is... and that confuses Tim. Because Mr Wayne was supposed to be angry when he saw Tim... because his parents were always angry when they saw him... because he messes everything up. It didn't make any sense from Mr Wayne's expression to melt when he saw them, because Tim was with them, and people were meant to be mad at him because he deserved their anger; because he couldn't do anything right.

"Aren't we going to be late?" was the very valid question asked by Dick when Mr Wayne was within earshot. Mr Wayne merely shook his head, smiled and ruffled their hair.

"Due to the... long nature of my phone calls" -_due to Tim not packing when he was supposed to- _"Alfred rang the airport and postponed our flight for an hour, we have plenty of time." Tim's heart clenched a little. It was _his fault. His fault _that Mr Wayne wasn't able to leave on time. _His fault_ that Mr Wayne was going to be late for his really big deal he was supposed to be closing. _His fault_. His breathing quickened, hitching in his throat and… they noticed... they actually noticed. Why did they notice, they weren't supposed to notice, he was supposed to be able to hide it because it was his fault- he was in the wrong… and people always got angry when he was wrong.

They didn't pick him up into a hug.

Which was what was happening now.

He was too shocked to struggle; to tell them that they shouldn't be doing this, that he was sorry and that they should be angry with him, because it was his fault. At that moment he hated being small, being small and easy to pick up, and easy to control. Not that he minded Mr Wayne picking him up, it's just that he shouldn't be and that was making him panic. Because he should be shouting at him, not hugging him. Because that's what his parents did and his parents were never wrong.

Mr Wayne was talking to him now. Soothing words into his ear… he couldn't tell what was being said but the tone was relaxing; making him limp on Mr Wayne's shoulder.

"Timmy; don't you dare think that anything is your fault, because it isn't. We are flying later because I want to fly later. No other reason. No other reason at all. My meeting with Mr Hashimura isn't until tomorrow at noon, I'm not going to be late, so you can calm down. I'm not going to shout at you… Okay?" somewhen Mr Wayne had found a chair and was now holding Tim a little away from him on his knee waiting for a response. Tim nodded slowly and unconvincingly, his face blank and Mr Wayne flashed him a look of that emotion that Tim didn't understand before pulling him into another hug and carrying him to the car.

One day Tim is determined to find out what that emotion is, so he can act accordingly… like the Drake he was supposed to be; so he can make his parents proud.

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**Hope you liked it... XD**


	5. Swings

**So my sister left me again to go off to uni *sobs* who needs an education anyway ;) especially from Cambridge pft :P. _Anyway_ she left me this really pretty little drawing on my iPad (which can be found here, sans spaces: **supernova2395 . tumblr post / 31621665981 / my-lovely-sisters-going-away-to-uni-again-present**) and it prompted me to write this chapter, which started as a tiny drabble and then expanded somewhat -_-***

**Hope you enjoy :D (By the way if you guys want anything in particular in this story feel free to tell me in a review or PM me)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman... for one thing that's kinda illegal you know anti-slavery laws, William Wilberforce, Amazing Grace and whatnot... plus if I did own Batman I would order him to take down the British government... which (although it's coming quite close on its own...) has not yet happened, therefore I do not own Batman... DC does who are much less politically inclined than myself :)**

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Tim was sitting on the swing... not swinging, just sitting; legs perfectly still, hands in his lap looking out over the Atlantic. He had done this every day since coming to the manor. It wasn't right. Swings were made to be swung on, not just sat on; they had chairs for that. Given, Tim looked exceedingly cute sitting on the swing; Dick just thought he would look cuter swinging on it, a bright smile on his face, laughing as the wind, caused by the pendulum motion (he, unlike Jason, paid attention in school), rippled through his hair, feeling the mildly nauseating and disorientating rush that every kid enjoys at his age whenever they go on swings at the park. He definitely shouldn't just be sitting there too scared to move.

"-rth to Dick Grayson... What's up bro?" his eyes snapped to Jason, whom he was sure was just getting out of after school detention the last time he checked his watch. His face was lined with concern for his older brother.

"Nothin Little Wing..." Jason's brow creased further,

"I know that tone Dick; what's up?" in that moment his throat clenched painfully preventing him from talking; he couldn't muster the words to explain why he had just been staring out of the manor window at Tim just sitting on a swing for the better part of an hour.

"I just hate seeing him like this." He finally found his voice, although it came out much like a hoarse whisper and nodded out to Tim with Jason following his gaze, his face falling when his eyes met the target. It made Dick's stomach churn in agony that the boy sitting on the swing wasn't the Tim he thought he knew… or was it that Tim wasn't the boy he thought he was.

"I know" Did he?… did Jason really know what he meant? How could he **really **know what Tim was like? Dick had known Tim since he came to the manor… Tim was three. He was the happiest three year old he had ever met; bright, resourceful, laugh like an angel. As much as Alfred says that Dick coming to live at the manor brought a light to it, and Bruce's life, the times they babysat Tim made the manor practically glow. A glow that dimmed the older he got. The laughs and smiles that Jason was privy to, when he arrived at the manor, were merely spectres of Tim's past. Ghosts of a boy that once lived. A boy that was now shut behind mental barricades formed by his parent's angry words, their vicious shouting of derogatory terms that Tim was too young to understand but remembered them anyway. Jason never met the real Tim; not like he did.

"I want my Timmy back." His voice was so low that it was barely audible, more for his own sake than Jason's. "I want the Timmy that laughs and cuddles and squeals and runs around really fast when we chase him, and grins giggling when we catch him and who's really bubbly all the time and lets us play pretend with him costumes and all. I want that Timmy back. Not this one. This is not Timmy…" how could someone's parents do that to their kid? He couldn't understand… both his families treated him with love and kindness; his first may not have had much, but they never shouted at him unless he had done something amazingly stupid. It was the same when he got to the manor, it wasn't the same touchy feely love he had grown up with, but it was still love. Bruce had a weird way of showing it at first but he could always tell it was there, especially when they babysat Tim. Watching the love and happiness come into Bruce's eyes when the boy was in the manor was like a gift from heaven… it was so gratifying to Alfred and himself that they would miss it when Tim was gone and back with his family (well the people who were biologically related to him, they weren't his family not after everything they had done to Tim, they didn't have the right). Since Jason, Bruce's eye lit up more and more around everyone. Who knew adopting a lost orphaned street kid could make the Batman melt into hugs and smiles? Bruce and his parents went about their parenting duties differently; but at least he knew they loved him. They definitely didn't leave him alone for months at a time…

He really didn't understand how anyone could do that to their own child? Their own flesh and blood. They had made their son a frightened little shell of the boy and not even noticed. Too busy off gallivanting around the world on one of their 'excavations' to notice the child they left at home. Too busy dealing in illegal artefacts, and making money, and off on business trips with Drake Industries to care about the cute little kid shivering alone in his bed at night because he had had a nightmare and there was no one there to comfort him.

It made his stomach churn, his skin crawl and anger boil up inside him.

He was glad that the Drakes were now behind bars pending a trial, safely away from Timmy, because if he saw them even look at the perfect little child they neglected again he might just snap and do something he would regret. Simply because he doesn't want Tim to lose another person in his life, not because he minds hurting Tim's parents.

His anger must have shown a little because his fists were clenched and Jason's hands were suddenly grasping his shoulders,

"I know Dick, but what can we do?" frowns came upon both their faces for a while before they came up with the same plan simultaneously. Broad grins graced their faces as they looked at each other and ran outside.

"Timbo"

"Little Brother" it took them fifteen seconds to reach the swing, another ten for Jason to scale the trunk and hang down, by his knees, from one of the thicker branches, and for Dick to unceremoniously plonk himself on the swing seat next to Tim. Tim didn't even react.

"Hey Timmy, what'ya dooooing" It was official he had been watching too many after school cartoons.

After a few seconds Tim's face turned.

Crying.

That's what he had been doing, and a lot of it. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks red with white wet streaks running down them. Dick merely scooped him into an embrace.

"They're not coming back, are they?"

He couldn't lie… not to Tim who had hear lies all his life and was now defending the people who gave them to him.

"No Tim, not anytime soon" _hopefully never_

"I don't understand" Dick shared a look with Jason because how do you tell someone that the people who meant the most to him in the world, the people who he looked up to, the people who he just wanted to make proud; how do you tell someone that to those people you mean nothing at all.

Because if you did then they wouldn't have left you at home alone, fending for yourself.

They would have loved you and cared for you and taken you around the world with them, and shared the world with you. That being able to take care of yourself enough that you can barely survive is not an honour, it's not an award, it's neglect. It's not normal, it's not loving, it's not what parents do.

"Neither do I Tim, neither do I" he pushed off gently from the floor and started to swing. Tim froze as though the world was going to end. "What's wrong Timmy?"

"We shouldn't be doing this; I shouldn't be doing this… I can't… it's… it's not right. Mr Wayne will be angry because I shouldn't be doing this…"

"Hey Timbo, it's a swing… it swings. That's what it's supposed to do" Jason, brash as always

"No… mommy says that it's not right and proper for someone to swing on a swing, it's childish and unbecoming." That made his blood boil more if it was even possible, Jason's too he could tell. And Tim could too, because he immediately froze, expecting to be shouted at.

"Tim, we're not angry and we're not going to shout at you. Neither is Bru- Mr Wayne for enjoying swinging on a swing. I don't care what your parents say… swinging on this swing is definitely becoming of you. It is a very becoming swing… your parents have just obviously never met Mr Swingy have they?" a smale smile broke onto Tim's face and- they could work with that. Timmy was still inside there somewhere he may have set up mental blockades to protect himself from his parents but Dick was damned if he wasn't going to lay siege to them; because they were no longer protecting a treasure; but imprisoning it.

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**Random question that has been bugging me for a while… am I supposed to capitalise the manor like: the Manor? Or not?**

**Kudos to those who, like me, watch far too many cartoons and get the Phineas and Ferb reference! :D**

**Thanks for reading... feel free to leave a review if thou so wishes ;)... did I mention it's kinda 2 o'clock in the morning and I am kinda looopyyyyyy... ;)**

**Supernova95 XD**


	6. Do Unto Others

**Hey! **

**So here is a kinda chapter kinda drabble I thought up whilst trying to wash the smell of butylamine off my hands and hair :/**

**Request: I have noticed that since going back to college my grammar and overall English skills seemed to have dropped exponentially :( when writing my stories... So if anyone wants to have a go at beta-ing me it would be greatly appreciated.**

**Request 2: If you have any ideas for stories I am eager to hear them!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman**

**Just a note to say: I am Christian and I don't mind sharing that little fact with you, this is based on Matthew 7:12, it is not the correct interpretation if that verse... But it is correct to Home Alone verse Timmy... Please do not aware at me if you hate how I've used it! *puppy dog eyes***

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Matthew 7:12 'Here is a simple, rule-of-thumb guide for behaviour: Ask yourself what you want people to do for you, then grab the initiative and do it for them'. Tim had never really gotten a handle on that verse... that rule of thumb commandment. Because; what should people do for him?

_He was nothing, a failure... his parents said so, and therefore it was true. _

They never ceased telling him so. Even when they stopped talking (shouting) they were telling him so, and he deserved no less.

What did he want others to do for him? Nothing, he didn't want anything from them, because that would make him a hindrance, a pest; an annoyance; a headache; a nuisance; a blight; a disease that clings to your clothes, to your skin, to your hair, long after your antibodies have made the correct antigens, long after you stop feeling the symptoms of healing, long after you are well again: that disease.

He did't want to be a dis-ease to those around him, they do not deserve it... he does not deserve them.

But others... others deserved so much more.

Like his parents. They deserved love, respect, obedience... were these really things he deserved from them? Did he need or want them?... They were his parents; did he have that right? What he wanted was to be their pride and joy, to be their perfect son, and they helped him do that. He wanted them to help him do that. To treat him thus that he could be worthy to be their crown prince.

How could he take the initiative and treat them so? That was not his place. His place was love, respect and obedience, to follow orders, not give them.

_They always deserve so much more... _everyone_ deserves so much more._

Like Dick, and Alfred and Mr Wayne; they do not deserve the task of looking after him. It was wrong of him to take their kindness, because it could be given to someone so much more worthy than him-

_The failure; the pest; the hindrance; the disease_

- and he is selfish and stupid and a failure to accept it laughing and grinning... because that is not his place. He does not *want* their kindness because it is **wasted** on him-

The nobody; the nothing, the useless space between subatomic particles; the void so expansive that it can never be filled no matter how hard people try; and therefore there is no point trying.

Surely it would be better for everyone if he did fade away into that void, for then he would not need to feel guilty every time he went round to Wayne Manor and they treated him like **he** should treat **them**... not the way they should treat him.

_The nobody. Why should anyone go out of their way for a nobody?_

**They** shouldn't because he was not worth it. But they were worth everything. They were worth the world, and he should treat them as such and more because he is nothing and creating something from nothing is difficult... so he tries, he really does, but in the end it never seems to be enough.

Because it never seems to work, because; surly they knew he was a nothing and could see the way he tried to treat them as a something. Only nothings need to try to treat somethings as somethings. Surly they should have seen his disparity by now surly they would have noticed he was a nothing.

If not they would soon right? And things will go back to the way they are supposed to be... right?

_For he is a nobody; and nobodies receive nothing, but give everything, for that is how they should be treated._

_That is their (his) place._

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**The Bible translation I used warather NIV!**

**Thanks for reading... Next time I'll have a proper chapter for you!**


	7. Costume Shopping

**This is not the chapter I was planning on writing... But seeing as the one I was planning on writing now sends me into fits of laughter, when it shouldn't, with the topic it is going to be on; it really shouldn't and it's all Celticlily and Superminion's fault... you get this one instead. Enjoy and please tell me what you think of it ;D**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman**

**Thank-you for EVERYONE who has reviewed, if I haven't PMed you... Or if you are a guest, thank-you sooooooo much!**

**Hex Enchantress: Oh my gosh YESSSSSSSS I am totally doing that!**

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It's mid-october, which meant only one thing... Halloween costume shopping... Fun for all the family and whatnot. Well it's supposed to be and that's what they keep telling Tim, or at least try to tell Tim. Not that he's ever been trick-or-treating..l which is sad really 'cause that's the best part. Well at least he thought so. Dick on the other hand always enjoyed the bright vibrant costumes... he came from a circus after all, which led to the whole family being dragged out to the largest costume shop in Gotham to buy halloween costumes.

To tell the truth every year it was an _interesting_ experience. They raided... literally *raided* the shop. _Every year_ it was the same, and most of the time it made him want to throw up all over the costumes his 'family' forced him to wear. This year, however, was a good year. Dick had a new little brother to pester with costume ideas; meaning he was free to chose his own... a very realistic zombie; he knows he's seen them.

Tim on the other hand was being fawned over by their elder brother as he ran around desperately trying to find a consume for the youngling. Unfortunately Tim was just too small for most of them, and as pretty as he would look in a Disney princess dress, they didn't quite think that it would suit him... that being said, if worst came to the worst; there were male fairies... right? If there weren't how else could there be fairy babies to keep the fairy population steady?

Tim would make a very cute fairy.

There was only one problem, that Jason could see, about dressing Tim up as a fairy and calling him cute, and that was that Tim wouldn't complain. He would just smile up at them, a small blush forming on his cheeks. Where every other male in the **entire** world would pout, shout, maybe even start crying at that age, but they would definitely point blank refuse to wear the green dress currently being handed to him. But Tim, Tim... just accepts everything, he doesn't complain, doesn't strop, have mood swings, or get upset at anything bar what he perceives as him **failing**, or not being able to meet some predetermined standards no one knows bit him and his parents.

Jason hated Tim's parents; he hated them with a passion. It made him *want* to be a street urchin again. Then it would be socially acceptable for him to find them in a dark ally way and beat the living daylights out of their aristocratic tendencies for making their son into... this. It wasn't fair. How was it just that _he_ had grown up in the crime ridden back streets of Gotham, and he had turned out more **normal** than a rich kid living in a big mansion in _Bristol_. Bristol for goodness' sake. He now lived in Bristol, well Wayne Manor and grounds take up a _large portion_ of Bristol, and it was a very nice place to live. But that obviously only worked if you were **allowed** to live. Because Tim; Tim hadn't lived, like ever. He had been cooped up in a house for the past eight years and only brought out for fancy occasions, like some sort of possession. He rarely even left for school. He had seen Tim's attendance reports and to be perfectly honest they were worse than *his*, and he regularly had people from school ringing the manor complaining about it, the conversations and excuses made being added to the record. As far as he could tell not one person had noticed that sometimes Tim wasn't there. How do you not know a child is not in class? How could a child from such a prominent family in this area just slip through the cracks.

Children like himself; a street kid whose first day at school had been _after_ he had started running round Gotham's rooftops in a bright and glaring armoured costume because Alfred had wanted to make sure he didn't have the humiliation of being put back grades, we're used to being forgotten and falling through the cracks of the system. People like Tim; rich, amazing, smart (like genius smart, not just normal smart), with the proper surname to boot, aren't supposed to be forgotten. It completely goes against the social order of things.

But Tim was forgotten. By _everyone_.

And that was *insert some obscenely strong piece of language here* unfair. (Yes he had been getting better with his language, especially since Tim arrived)  
Tim who was smiling awkward up at them whilst pulling on pixie boots that reminded a lot of his first Robin boots, like a lot a lot. How is he now suddenly finding himself thinking about how _cute_ Tim would look as **Robin?** He would be such a cute little baby bird. Babybird. He liked that it was... fitting.

"Awwww, Babybird, you look so cute in those _*pixie boots*_" he emphasised the end of the sentence for Dick; who was looking at him as though he was insane and Tim was blushing, probably at being called cute, or at the fact he was wearing pixie boots. When it clicked Dick's smile was as broad as the Atlantic*. Dick's eyes went wide and he rushed off murmuring,

"Oh my gosh, oh my gosh..." Jason had long perfected the 'Alfred eyebrow raise' since first meeting Dick. Tim just watched the older boy run back into the shop from the changing rooms. The blush still prominent on his face, but expression blank and seemingly mouldable. When he turned to Jason, it looked as if he was searching his face for a way to react to the situation.

Searching for the right response. For the mask to take that would get him the least in 'trouble'.

Now it was Jason's turn to awkwardly smile. He really didn't know how to respond when Tim was like this, he didn't know how to get Tim to be himself. Then his smile turned devious,

"Babybird, do you want to ambush Dick with the most _embarrassing costume_ in this shop?" he didn't know how it was possible but Tim's blush **deepened**. "Oh, we are totally ambushing Dick" and Tim smiled, _he actually smiled_.

"Um mister? Can I take these into the changing rooms?"

"Sure kid just make sure you put them back" if that had been him the guy would have said no, but Dick is irresistible to **everyone**.

"Yes sir", and obscenely chirpy all the time. "Timmy, Little Brother! You are going to look amazing, and cute and pretty and..." he pulled back the stall curtain... _glitter make-up_ samples in hand, a mischievous grin on his face. "... just trust me on this"

Dick spent all of five minutes glittering Tim up, but even Jason had to admit that by the end of it Tim looked breathtaking. The way his cheeks sparkled and wings shimmered. A proper fairy. By this time Dick was chanting for him to "Go show dad" and was awkwardly dragging the boy around the shop to find their father with one hand; make-up samples in the other.

By the time he had caught up with them Bruce and Alfred were smiling and Tim was desperately trying to hide behind Dick's legs in embarrassment. He looked up at his dad,

"Can I borrow Tim for five minutes, please?" Bruce saw the glint in his eyes and their movement towards Dick. He laughed.

"Sure, just get Tim changed first, and don't get lost." It really was a big shop. Jason felt bad about dragging Tim back to the changing room so quickly, but they had an embarrassing costume to find.

"You can come out now Dick"

"No I can't"

"Don't make me go and get dad" in truth Bruce was standing right behind them one hand on his and Tim's shoulders with Alfred carrying picked out costumes behind him.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming out" he whined. This was going to be hilarious. The curtain slowly opened and Bunny Dick stepped out slowly looking up, seeing dad, squealing and running back into the stall and violently shutting the curtain.

"I hate you Jay, I really really hate you" he and Bruce burst out laughing whilst Alfred allowed himself a small chuckle. Tim however looked stoic, a forced smile on his face out of politeness and Jason frowned. He hated seeing Tim like this, it literally broke his heart. Maybe it was because Tim was now his little brother, maybe it was because they both come from families where their parents mistreated and neglected them, where their own mothers didn't love them enough to stay with them. Maybe... it could be a lot of things, but it broke his heart.

"Master Bruce, am I to presume we have found Master Richard's costume."

"Yes Alfred I think we have."

"Master Jason I wish to commend you on your costume finding abilities" Jason smiled but it wasn't him, which is probably why Tim was currently looking so scare, because Dick though he had found the costume, not Tim, and Dick had _playfully_ told him that he hated him. And that was Tim's worst fear- rejection.

"Thanks Alf, but it wasn't me. It was Tim." Dick threw the curtain open, already changed.

"Really?"

"Yup" he stood there for a moment and Tim looked so scared Jason was about to throw his arms around the boy when he realised Dick had literally thrown himself on him, with the biggest smile Jason had ever seen.

"Eeeeeeek THANK-YOU Timmy, this is going to be the best Halloween **EVER!**"

And he laughed. Tim laughed. Not an _I'm just going to laugh because it's the polite thing to do even though it really doesn't sound like anything but a pained whine_ kind of laugh they were all so used to hearing from Tim, but an _I'm just going to go and throw away all my inhibitions, angst and self-hatred brought on by people who didn't like me laughing, and just laugh because **I** want to_ kind of laugh; and it was **angelic**.

Beautiful and crisp. It was the sound an eight year old should make when being hugged and ticketed by their elder brother, and really? He could get used to it. Yes he could definitely get used to a happy little Babybird.

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***I was going to put "as wide as the Missouri" and then I realised only Celticlily and Superminion would get the joke... and this sounded better... so yeah.**

**Thanks for reading, PLEASE *makes whiney begging sound* tell me what you think ;) **

**Supernova95 XD**


	8. Fire

**Another drabble that just wouldn't leave me alone and let me do my chemistry coursework until I had written it :/ **

**I hope you like it (It's part of the build up to the events in Ice Cream).**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman**

**BTW, if anyone has any questions or prompts or anything feel free to leave them in a review, or PM :)**

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Tim was stuck. He couldn't move and it was getting really hot.

All he was doing was taking the class register back to the main school office when three of the older boys ran passed laughing, swearing, _not noticing him_. They hadn't meant to knock him into the cupboard. Right? It's not like he was worth being bullied. He wasn't worth the effort of being *pushed* into the janitor's closet so hard he hit his head and made some of the shelves fall down. He wasn't worth being locked in either. Was he.

But he was… how did that make him happy?

But that wasn't why he was getting hot. He didn't know why he was getting hot. The cupboard had ventilation and was nowhere near the school boilers; some of the cleaning chemicals gave of harsh fumes when they vaporized, so why was it getting hot? As in unbearably hot. The sort of heat you get when you walk into one of the Food Technology* rooms in the summer after the class before have just spent a whole double period with all the ovens turned on to their highest gas mark. It felt like he had just materialised in the centre of the sun and was being vaporized by its fifteen million degrees K heat. It felt like he was on fire.

And it was getting worse.

He couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? The air in front of him carried a slightly tinted haze as a small orange glow started to creep under the door. It was enticing, hypnotising and perilously dangerous all at once. The way it shimmered, flickered and radiated. The way it could destroy cities, homes, families and yet give them the means to cook and survive and keep warm in the harsh winter.

The God's gift to man that turned out to be both a blessing and a curse.

Fire.

His feet burned much like being left on a radiator too long. But he still couldn't move, pinned to the floor by a shelf that he couldn't move on his own. Panic was starting to set in. What would his parents say? How would they react to their son being absolutely useless? The shallow breaths that currently posed as breathing increased in frequency until he was hyperventilating and close to passing out.

Why was he so useless?

Other people weren't this useless. Didn't get themselves trapped inside their school when it was on fire. Didn't get themselves trapped in the first place. Other people were bullied for a purpose; they were noticed and bullied because there was something there that the bullies envied. Not randomly shoved into a closed because he was walking past people. That was just him being useless and not being able to stand his ground.

Other people didn't hyperventilate in a cupboard full of dangerous vaporized chemicals.

Other people didn't-

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It took them four hours to get Tim in an ambulance; one to notice he was missing, two more to quell the blaze and find him and another to get him out. They were so relieved he was alive.

The school didn't need negligent homicide charges brought against them.

They called his parents. They weren't in. So they called the designated emergency contact number, and for a state school they were mildly surprised that it was Bruce Wayne, even more surprised that he was Tim Drake's godfather, but what surprised them the most was that his *butler* said he would send "Master Wayne" as soon as possible. Which happened to be about ten minutes (the distance from Wayne Enterprises to Gotham General) and he arrived before the ambulance.

It was finally nice to see that someone cared for the kid. He was so sweet and eager to please, yet scared and would do anything to stop a teacher from shouting; even if it wasn't directed at him.

Their shouting was never directed at him. He never did anything wrong.

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The hospital was frantic, as always, but at least they cared for a kid with heat stroke, dehydration and harmful chemical inhalation. Unlike Tim's parents who were off another one of their damned trips.

He had originally thought that they took Tim with them; because there was never any sign of life in the house when they were gone.

But they didn't, they left him at home, all alone, to fend for himself. He was eight for goodness sake, and this was the last straw. The Drakes didn't deserve the treasure they had been given. Tim was a gift. He was special.

And he had no one to tell him that. No one who cared enough to make him smile. And it made the father in Bruce sick.

He already had two little lights in his life; it wouldn't hurt to add a third.

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***sorry, I don't know what Americans call school cooking classes, if someone wants to tell me I will change it.**

**Thanks for reading :)**

**Supernova95 XD**


	9. Godfather

**Wooooooo... UPDATE!** **I hope you like it, I am not convinced at the ending... as always please tell me what you think and ask any questions/prompts you may have :)**

**Next chapters I am writing:**

**A Trip To Tokyo (because who doesn't love a little alliteration) and the Halloween Party :) **

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It had taken him by surprise at first. The Drakes, his neighbours, wanted **him **to be their son's godfather.

Not that he didn't want to be; it just surprised him.

It surprised him because the Drakes weren't very neighbourly... at all. In fact they were about as far from neighbourly as you could get. They were rarely ever home, declined all invitations to the manor unless they were specifically either charity events or meetings about joint ventures for Wayne Enterprises and Drake Industries.

Really, he barely knew them. They were distant, and from what he could tell; unloving. Always going off around the world on either business or pleasure, which, it didn't matter, but they were never home. How could they raise a son properly if they were never home?

Little Timothy Jackson Drake _deserved _better.

Because he had seen the little baby, and he was little; 5lb 3oz* little, excruciatingly little, so little that he might break if you hold him too close, hug him too hard.

And the family he was born into didn't deserve him. Because they were polar opposites; he was sweet, kind, gentle, even at a few weeks old... and they were... well: not.

So he was determined to be the best godfather he could be, simply because if he wasn't then it was very possible that Timothy would grow up in a lovelorn home surrounded by nannies, childminders who didn't love him in the way he should be loved: parental love.

He looked at the Drakes, the way they scowled throughout the Christening, the way unhappiness and scorn radiated off of them, and he was happy that he had had Alfred after his parents died, because people like the Drakes shouldn't be allowed to be parents. They were going to hurt this child, this beautiful child with bright blue eyes and gracious smile, and there was nothing any of them could do about it... for the moment. Because the minute he could he was going to do something about it, because he wasn't going to see another child grow up without a proper family... not that **he** could give him that, but someone could; right?

* * *

The first time his Godfatherly duties were called upon was only a few months after Tim's christening. His parents were going on a dig to the Neanderthal Caves of South France, apparently the date of the dig was agreed on two years in advance, before Tim, they _really_ couldn't miss it and the nanny had to cancel, so could he possibly look after Tim for a week.

That was all it was meant to be. It ended up being three and a half, then again they weren't to blame. Eyjafjallajokull had spewed an ash cloud into the upper troposphere meaning they couldn't fly home. They hadn't even called, just turned up one day apologising with blank faces, probably more upset at the inconvenience of being stuck in France for an extra two and a half weeks than leaving their child in Gotham for that time, a child who had only just stopped breast feeding (and that was far too soon for Alfred's liking anyway).

It hadn't mattered to Alfred and him really. Tim was all a family could want in a baby, quiet (probably too quiet) only making noise when he needed changing, feeding, burping or was tired.

He really was the cutest thing they had ever seen. Bright blue eyes shining, an just so small.

How was he six months old already? He looked no more than a few weeks; at best.

So tiny, so precious, so small you could lose him.

There came a point in that three weeks that Bruce didn't want to leave Tim at the manor all day, even with Alfred there; it just didn't seem fair. As far as he could tell, the only times Tim had left his house so far were to go to the hospital a few weeks after he was born because he had come down with a cold (and he was just so small) that he took a turn for the worse, and developed into something more; to go to the church for his christening; or to come to Wayne Manor.

In six months they were the only times Timothy Jackson Drake had left his house. He had never been into Gotham... to see Gotham (no the hospital didn't count) and Bruce was determined to rectify that.

Commence operation "bring your next door neighbour's kid to work day".

Tim had probably never been fussed over so much in his entire life, and he made a mental never to leave Tim alone with his secretary and office staff... he may not come back. He also made a note to send round a memo that said;

"No the baby was not his, as much as he wished he was, Tim was his next door neighbours' son, his Godson, and he was just looking after Tim because his parents were stuck in France"

Yeah, he really should send that memo around, he always getting really sick and tired of repeating himself, and he really really didn't want some snoopy reporter coming around and getting the wrong end of the stick; **he** got enough of that as it was.

With the latest bout of cheek inching and cooing he was so close to pulling a batman glare on them... but 'business man Bruce Wayne' doesn't Batman glare. Though as much as _he_ disliked the fawning over the baby... Tim was loving it. Soaking up the attention like a sponge; Bruce would have thought, for someone so love and touch starved, that the attention would bring Tim distress, he had been fully prepared for a crying baby, and later on in life it may do, but at this malleable time in his infanthood Tim was laughing at the set of keys being dangled just above his head, not bawling his eyes out. The individual was making sure he couldn't actually grab them, but Tim seemed to find trying just as fun.

He wouldn't mind having a child, having a cute tiny little thing to love, to watch grow, develop, learn; to see a child become all that they were meant to, to fulfil their destiny; as such.

But he couldn't.

It was selfish and wrong and not right. He **couldn't **justify bringing a child into his world, a world where he *could* die any night. A world where there were dangers around every corner. Dangers from having a vigilante as a farther (what would his rogues do if they found out who he was- go after his child(ren)); dangers with being the child of one of the most wealthy people in the world. He couldn't bring the possibility of harm into a child's life. He couldn't leave another child without a father... not like him... He couldn't take the chance that someday his child would be all alone; left in a world of butlers (he loved Alfred, but even he isn't immortal) nannies and child-minders, he had no right to condemn a child like that; not like Tim's parents had condemned him.

* * *

*** I haven't actually had a baby and so don't actually know how little a 'little' baby is, but I did look it up on the Internet, getting some weird looks from those around me (I was in physics) so I hope this suffices... correct me if I'm wrong :)**

**Thanks for reading XD**

**Supernova95**


	10. Tokyo Part 1

**Sorry for taking so long to update -_-* our teachers decided that they were going to spring about seven tests on us in like three days :( so I have been pretty stressed lately, but I promised Celticlily I would update (i said on Friday or Saturday so I'm a day late) but hey it's an update :D**

**Okay this is just a warning, the next chapter may take a little while as I have a rugby match on Wednesday against the best college in the country and we are going to get thrashed (the last time we played the game had top be called off halfway though because we were loosing so badly :( ) and I will probably be hurting and exhausted... and a lot of the time I can't write when I am exhausted; in pain yes... exhausted no. Hopefully it won't be a long wait and you will all be like "Why did she tell us this?!" but I thought I would warn you because I am nice and hate leaving you hanging :) **

**So on with the new chapter... this is written for Reading Addict who wanted something on their time in Tokyo (this is part one there *will* be a part two... I am just having writer's block on how to get there :/ ) so enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman (but I do wish DC would be clearer on whether there is going to be a Red Robin ongoing series because 'something is going to happen' is NOT good enoutgh :( )**

**As always prompts and questions are welcome XD**

* * *

"Welcome to the largest metropolitan area on Earth little bro." Emerging from Tokyo International Airport they were almost swept away with a crowd of bustling commuters. All Tim could do was look around and gape. Gape at the skyscrapers that had looked so tiny from the plane; gape at the bright lights, the vibrant colours, the buzzing sound of the busy metropolis.

"Pretty cool, isn't it Babybird?" He nodded profusely, not trusting his voice at the moment. It was exciting, he had never been out of Gotham before... not even on school trips, just being here was enough to make his voice break... but in Tokyo, a city with so much history and culture; Tim was pretty sure his voice was a wispy string of high pitched squeaks at the moment. Jason and Dick chuckled a bit and ruffed up his hair, guiding him to a waiting limo that Mr Pennyworth had insisted on driving himself.

"Bruuuuuce… where are we going first?" Mr Wayne smiled at his impatient eldest son,

"The hotel to drop off our bags, then I think Mr Hu's for dinner?"

"Yes!" the simultaneous outcry came from both Jason and Dick as their fists were punched into the air. Tim smiled. They were happy; everything was alright as long as everyone else was happy. As long as everyone else was happy there was no shouting, no arguing, no looks of pure hatred and despair. It was nice, to be in a place of smiles and hugs… even if he didn't deserve them, even when he had been bad, imperfect, Tim.

It was nice.

Nice that Mr Wayne and his family could be happy even with him around, that they didn't grimace when he passes into their line of sight; that they still laughed at each other's bad jokes with him sitting right next to them. Nice.

"We are so totally not getting the seafood special for Dick again"

"Hey why not?"

"Because you threw it up"

"Oh yeah… that wasn't so pleasant… let's not do that again"

"Hey Babybird; you ever had Japanese before?" Tim stared at him blankly… had Japanese? What did he mean had Japanese? "… I'll take that as a no, you're gonna love it. Mr Wu does the most awesome chicken noodles **ever**" his face stayed blank, food, Jason was talking about food. Had he ever had Japanese food before? He had never been _out_ to dinner before; his parents had never taken him, and he was pretty sure they had never had Japanese at home; well he had never made it when his parents were away and they didn't make it when they were home… in fact they didn't really make anything when they were home. They practically lived off frozen meals brought from the supermarket, or food the maid made when his parents were home and employed someone to do the things that they didn't want to. Tim had never really liked the ready meals, they were oily and dry and bland and some made him sick, or made his thought close up tight and painfully itchy. The food he made when he was home alone never did that. He just hoped Japanese weren't like those ready meals.

"Oh man those noodles are amazing… little bro you *have* to be so excited about those noodles" Dick's smile was blinding as his arms wrapped around Tim pulling him into a hug, he offered a small smile back;

"I've never been out before" his voice small and emotionless, it was a simple fact, nothing more, nothing less; but it brought looks of contempt to the faces of those in the car… even Mr Wayne looked disgusted.

"Your parents went out to dinner all the time… at least once a week when they were home" Tim nodded, they had.

"It was usually when I had done something wrong; they didn't like me when I did stuff wrong so they went out." Dick tightened his hug suddenly wishing that Alfred wasn't such a good, so that they went out more because Tim currently denoted going out to dinner with doing something wrong (even if that thing wasn't wrong at all) and that wasn't right.

"Wait…" Jason's voice was blunt and to the point "so Babybird you're telling me that you have never eaten dinner outside of your house?" Tim shook his head silently "You've never been out for Pizza or Chinese, or fish and chips" Tim shook his head again, eyes cast down to the floor of the limo "not even to a random diner; or MacDonald's to eat junk food" more shaking, his eyes started tearing up. He had failed, somehow he had failed them, he was supposed to know these things, but he didn't.

"I'm sorry" his voice, barely a whisper, rang out though the limo even against the loudish roar of the engine.

"Babybird"

"Timmy, little bro"

"Tim, there is nothing for you to be sorry about, we're not upset *with you* about anything, no, nothing at all" Mr Wayne was smiling at him even though he had failed. That wasn't supposed to happen. "Though when we go out; if you don't like something you need to tell me; and I will get you something else." Tim nodded vaguely tears still prickling his eyes as the car pulled to the front of the hotel.

He stared and gasped. It was one of the tallest skyscrapers in the city, sleek and lit up like a Christmas tree; a very tall Christmas tree. The whole thing was made out of tinted glass; it almost looked like Wayne Enterprises back in Gotham. The hotel was subtly imposing, a piece of architecture that laid claim to the land, the city, without anyone batting an eyebrow.

"Mr Wayne; how nice to see you again, your usual suite is ready for you. May I take your bags?"

"Thank-you, Alfred will help you, I'm sure" Mr Wayne said whilst literally picking Tim up into his arms as he tried to get the bags out of the limo's boot. His embrace was warm, soft and loving; nothing like Tim had ever felt before. It felt safe, like he could fall asleep for eternity there and nothing would ever wake him; the world could pass into a zombie apocalypse and Tim would still feel safe in Mr Wayne's arms.

"Of course Master Bruce it will be my pleasure"

"Mr Wayne I should hel-" Jason bopped his nose and he recoiled in surprise, brow creasing in confusion

"Shush Babybird dad is carrying you and you are going to enjoy it, so just relax." He was hugged close to the man who had always been so kind to him and he nodded into the man's shoulder.

"Master Bruce I will see you upstairs"

"Yes, thank-you Alfred." Their butler left them at the front doors with the porter as they took the porters' entrance and went up to the hotel's penthouse that way. Mr Wayne however strode thought the doors and into the magnificent lobby.

It was huge, took up the two bottom stories of the building and was as open plan as you could get. Tim couldn't help but mutter a small "wow" as they passed through; and that's what they did: pass through. Mr Wayne didn't stop. He walked straight passed the huge marble columns at the entrance, straight passed the glass reception desk that took up most of the right side of the hall, straight passed the fountain in the middle of the room where a dragon was breathing water instead of fire; straight to the elevator and no one batted an eyelash. It was like Mr Wayne owned the place... did he own the place? It would make sense... but he couldn't really find himself caring because the flight had been late, _and_ long, _and_ they had technically lost a day (which they were going to gain back; well at least some of it) _and_ he was really tired, _and_ Mr Wayne was really comfortable, _and_ his eyelids were drooping... _and_, even though he didn't want to fall asleep on Mr Wayne, because he shouldn't fall asleep on people because it wasn't proper, and it was unbecoming, and Mr Wayne wouldn't like him if he fell asleep; even though he shouldn't he couldn't help it. Especially with the monotone buzz of the lift as they went upwards, he fell into a surprisingly blissful, safe sleep.

Bruce was certain he has somehow been turned into a fourteen year old girl because 'Awwwww' that was literally the only thing that went through his mind as they exited the elevator into their suite. Tim was such a cute sleeper... Tim was cute anyway, but especially when sleeping almost weightless in his arms.

Tim really needed to eat more. From what he'd heard today, he probably hadn't eaten properly since he was five if *really* ever. Which was probably why he was so small; he was being denied the nutrients he needed to grow properly. Mentally taking down a note to make sure that didn't happen now; the damage, however, was probably already done, Tim would always be small, he would probably be teased for it.

And it was all the Drakes' fault. He had never felt so angry at anyone, not even Chill, than he did at that moment at Jack and Janet Drake.

"Hey dad, what's up?" an involuntary "huh?" graced his lips before he looked up at his two sons already settled into their rooms

"Nothing Jason; why?" his son smiled back at him and raised his eyebrow in an Alfred-like manner

"Oh it's just that you had that I-want-to-punch-someone-now face on so we thought something might be up" he chuckled, it was small and gentle as to not wake Tim, but it was still there

"I was just reminiscing on parenting and hoping that I'm a good dad" he had expected awkward smiles and shuffling feet; he had not expected being gently barrelled into by two teenaged boys,

"The best" Jason hugged him tighter, making sure not to squish Tim's feet while did so, but really; Jason had to think that. He was the only dad Jason knew, Willis Todd didn't count; a man who abandoned his kid to the streets because his new girlfriend didn't like him and said the money could be better spent on her, gambling, alcohol and the occasional drugs didn't deserve to be called a father.

"I'm putting you joint top, with my dad; because you're both awesome" coming from Dick, who was attached to the other side of him like a starfish, that was high praise. John Grayson was a better father than he could ever be.

In all honesty, he wasn't a good father. He was a broken, obsessive, compulsive, vigilante who was at times an overly flamboyant playboy, who dressed up at night in a bat themed armoured suit and beat criminals to a pulp. No, he wasn't a good father, he tried to be. He tried so very hard to be; but he just wasn't.

What he was; was blessed with two (soon to become three once the paperwork came through) sons who were every type of amazing you could come up with. Smart, witty, brave, annoying, funny, a joy, well behaved with a hint of mischievousness… amazing.

And somehow they were his.

"Master Wayne I assure you, you are doing very well in that department" Alfred, who had probably been listening to the whole conversation had somehow managed to take a picture of their makeshift family, was now smiling at them from the corner of the room picking up the valet ticket and putting the camera in his pocket for 'later'.

With his free hand he ruffled Jason's hair then brought his arm round dick to squeeze him into a tight hug. They may not be the most conventional family but that's exactly what the five of them were: family. They loved each other, complimented each other, brightened each other's days and he would be damned if anything happened to them.

They were his.

"So who thinks we can make it to Mr Hu's without waking Tim?" they were a family;

And one day Tim might see that too.

* * *

**Thanks for reading... one more question;**

**ANYONE have ANY idea what is going on with Cartoon Network and Young Justice? **

**I want a third season not ANOTHER hiatus :( we only just got off the last one.**

**Thanks again for reading**

**Supernova95 XD**


	11. Tokyo Part 2

**Hey, I'm** **sorry for the long wait... UCAS took over my life :/ good news is that I have now applied for university... bad news is that I don't have internet for the next week as I'm on my Gold D of E... so it's going to be another long wait for the next chapter (which is going to be a Halloween themed chapter for - I think it was Hex Enchantress - who asked for Tim to meet some other heroes :D)**

**I somehow feel really proud of you guys' deduction skills... because so many of you figured out/ asked for Timmy being allergic to something... which is shellfish because that is the only allergy we have in my family therefore it is the only one I have intimate knowledge about (although I'm not, but my mum and sister are)**

**So enjoy, and tell me what you think :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them.**

**Also I don't speak an inkling of Japanese and I hate going to online translators because they're never right so I've just put it in curly brackets like these {} **

* * *

Mr Hu's was a traditional Chinese and Japanese restaurant. His family had moved to Tokyo during the Manchurian crisis of 1931, when it became clear that 'Manchuko' as it was then named by the emperor, was going to become Imperial Japanese Empire. Their home had become an unstable and dangerously violent; so they moved. It had turned out more of a business venture than an evacuation. Why move back into a poor and starving nation when there is a more affluent one trying to make you their citizens anyway?

So they moved to the City of Tokyo, as it was then called, and started up a small culinary business attracting many because of its different (traditional Chinese) foods. Their original, _only seats about ten guests at a time_, restaurant soon had to be abandoned due to the sheer numbers of people they had passing through their doors every night moving to the premises they have today. They also slowly branched into Japanese and more western meals (to accommodate some of the more _'I'm going to another country but I still expect them to serve me the same food I have at home'_ travellers) making Mr Hu's one of the most sought out restaurants in town.

Of course Bruce Wayne didn't have a problem getting a table.

This wasn't particularly because of the name; but more because they came here *every time* they were in Japan. Bat business or not. Mr Hu was like family, always smiling, enquiring how they were, how school was for the children, how Alfred was; were they getting enough sleep… it was like having a second Alfred. Who could ever say no to a second Alfred? Especially one who rang the Manor every so often just to see how they all were.

So dinner at Mr Hu's become a much loved tradition. One they were determined to induct Timmy into as soon as possible.

"Are we nearly there yet?" Dick was whining… he knew he was whining… it was actually something his was very good at.

"Five minutes Master Richard; do you think you may be able to cease whining for that amount of time? If you wake Master Timothy there will be no chocolate fudge sundae for you." Alfred: the only person in the world who could make the three of them be quiet at the promise of no dessert.

"Sorry Alfred"

"I certainly should hope so Master Dick" his English upper lip shining through for a brief moment before he put his concentration solely on the road in front of him.

This renewal of concentration got them there in four minutes and twenty six seconds (what of he couldn't whine why couldn't he count?) and with a still sleeping Tim. That must get him a chocolate fudge sundae… right?

The restaurant was unusually quiet, normally it would be packed with people sitting on the comfy cushions in the corner patiently waiting for a table whilst sipping their drinks and chatting about little nothings with each other. Tonight, however, those cushions (like half the tables) were empty.

Mr Hu, even with the slow night, was as bright as ever. That was something Dick admired about him, no matter what happened Mr Hu would always smile at you. Even after the earthquakes, the tsunamis, the nuclear meltdowns… he would still smile whenever you visited.

"Hey Mr Hu" the two older boys ran to the man, taking a leg each, and squeezing. He laughed, putting one arm round each of them and squeezed back just as intently.

"Hello to you too, and a new one I see" Indicating to Tim who was just waking up.

"Mr Hu, this is Timmy, Timmy this is Mr Hu… he's like Alfred and our other totally awesome grandpa"

Tim was groaning, shifting uncomfortably in Bruce's arms, trying to bury his face into Bruce's chest. His eyes not yet completely open, he was still squinting at the bright lights of the Tokyo night. Coming to slowly, he placed his hands on Bruce's shoulders and pushed himself up; surveying his surroundings. Unfortunately that's when he noticed the large amount of attention he was getting and his first reaction was to blush and hide, almost slipping out of Bruce's hold as he did so. Halfway through his motion he seemed to remember something… the look he got on his face when he was trying to remember something his parents taught him; something he deemed was really important.

"{Good evening Mr Hu, it's a pleasure to meet you}" Fluent Japanese… since when was Tim fluent in Japanese?

"{It's a pleasure to meet you too Timmy; shall we go and get your family seated at a table?}" Dick had yet to master the basics of the language; but he had picked up "Timmy", "Family" and "Table", and caught on that it was a question… so he thought he was doing pretty well. Tim looked nervous at being asked a question, not quite sure what to do. Well, it looked as though he knew what to do, but at the same time he didn't. As the insecurity built up on Tim's face Mr Hu smiled and ruffled is hair. It was a simple gesture, one Dick had been the recipient of since before he can remember; but Tim just looked bemused. Bemused and a little frightened.

"Okay Mr Hu" Tim's voice had never been smaller.

* * *

He didn't understand… he *really* didn't understand. Mr Hu had ruffled his hair, and was smiling at him, *talking* to him as though he was really there, and in a way that only Mr Wayne or Dick did. But Mr Wayne and Dick were supposed to; it was in the 'adopt your neighbour's kid' handbook. Mr Hu didn't have to be nice, to act as though Timmy was important, that he meant anything at all.

But he did.

Mr Hu led him through the restaurant, guided him, showed him their table, pulled out his seat (they had even put in a booster so he could reach the table) and smiled.

And kept smiling; as Mr Wayne's family sat down, as they glanced at them menu and Mr Wayne ordered, as he walked off towards the kitchen with a small bow. He wasn't supposed to still be smiling.

People weren't supposed to smile at him; he was a failure… you don't smile at failures that's not how it works; you send them to their rooms without dinner; you keep them in when it's sunny, or lock them out in the rain…. You order them, tell them what to do and expect them to do it without complaints, without so much as a whimper, because that's how the world works… right?

He definitely weren't supposed to smile.

The food was... different. Really different. It smelled nice, and looked nice; but it was different. Different in a good way, exotic different. An_ I really want to try this _different; he had never felt that before, he had never looked at food as more than a necessity, because nothing had ever looked or smelled like this before.

Food was almost shoved onto his plate, creating a pile so high he probably wouldn't be able to consume it all in a week.

"Hey Babybird try this" smiling meekly he took the stick from Jason's hand. It was a dish known as Tempura (he thought that's what someone said)... deep fried battered... what looked like prawns. It tasted quite nice, he did however decide that the vegetable version was nicer than the prawn version, but it was nice. Jason and Dick both helped themselves to one each and carried on chatting to each other; smiling and laughing.

Then he was coughing a bit. His lips were tingling and his throat was itchy, itchy so that he wanted to find the coarsest food on his plate to satisfy his annoying need; but at the same time whenever he could swallow it felt like sandpaper had been unceremoniously rubbed down his oesophagus. He couldn't breath, it was like someone had a hand on his throat and was slowly squeezing tighter and tighter. His face was itching too, especially his eyes, but touching them hurt.

"Timmy, hey Timmy are you okay?" he was going to spoil their evening, it was just a cold, or something it would pass. So he nodded desperately, blinking back stinging tears and letting out a wheeze.

"Babybird? Dad, Babybird's lips are going blue" now he was gasping, breathing was difficult and it hurt, really really hurt.

"Tim? Dick, get Mr Hu to call the paramedics... Tim are you allergic to anything?" He didn't know, he really didn't, "Hey, it's okay Tim, everything's going to be fine, Alfred-?"

"Already on my way sir," his vision was starting to swim, to blur and blacken at the edges but he could just make out Alfred running for the door... something must be really wrong for Alfred to run, he hated spoilling their evening like this.

"Tim, keep your eyes open, I know it hurts, but Alfred is going to get our emergency anaphylaxis kit from the car, and hopefully the paramedics will be here soon, you're going to be okay"

He tried, he really did but it hurt to keep his eyes open and Mr Wayne's hand just felt so soothing running through his hair

"S-sorry" it didn't come out more than a whisper but they still hear him.

"Nothing to be sorry about Babybird, you just hang on in there"

His vision was darkening and even he could hear his laboured gasps... he really couldn't stay away any longer.

"S-sorry"

* * *

The lights were really bright, staring directly into the sun bright, he squinted and coughed, wondering where he was. Whatever he was lying on was really really soft, soft and warm, like his bed at the manor. He was faintly aware of the hand on his, comforting and nice.

"Dad?" His voice, although loud enough to be heard, sounded like gravel. It seemed the right thing to say, it was like something that happened in the movies Dick had been making him watch when they got home from school on Friday nights.

"Tim, you're awake" he wasn't dreaming... it was Mr Wayne, he had called Mr Wayne his dad. He didn't deserve to call Mr Wayne his dad, Mr Wayne didn't deserve to have Tim forced on him as a son; why would he want them as a son anyway. Tim ruined everything, he messes everything up, he can't even go away for a week-end without spoiling it; this was why his parents left him at home all the time. he wasn't good enough to be trusted to go with them without landing himself in a hospital and making them stay with them, detracting them from the reason they went on the trip in the first place. Now it was Mr Wayne who had to stay with him... Mr Wayne... who had a business meeting at midday... he bolted up,

"Mr Wayne, I'm sorry, you shouldn't be here, you're supposed to be at your important meeting, I'm sorry." He was sitting up now, Mr Wayne not moving from his chair and rubbing small circles into his back; soothing circles.

"Mr Fox is handling it"

"I'm sorry"

"Tim, you have nothing to apologise for, you didn't know you were allergic to shellfish, did you?" He shook his head; still feeling as though the kind man should be elsewhere instead of tending to a worthless person like him, Wayne Enterprises was way more important... that's what his parents had said about Drake Industries all the time.

"Mr Hashimura was completely understanding when I told him one of my sons had had a sever allergic reaction and was in hospital, you have nothing to be sorry about"

Nothing to be sorry about... but… but… yes he did, for the reasons just outlined; Mr Wayne should be angry with him, should be at his meeting, should have left him at home.

"But Wayne Enterprises-"

"…Will survive me not going to one meeting. Tim, you have to understand that you, and Dick, and Jason and Alfred a far more important to me than Wayne Enterprises will ever be"

"I don't" Bruce looked down on child in front of him with a small weary smile. A child that was forced to grow up too fast, a child that has *suffered* because of his parents, a child that doesn't understand that he has been neglected his whole life, that doesn't understand that life is not supposed to be what he thinks it's supposed to be like. A child that has never sounded so small, so insecure, so confused, and he did something that, a couple of years ago would never have crossed his mind. He hugged him. Close and to his chest, letting the small boy nuzzle into his shoulder instinctively, holding him there when he tried to break away, trying to reassure him that this was okay. That he shouldn't need to feel like human contact was something reserved for when he had misbehaved, or for when he had done something wrong. That rather; it was simply a hug, because they cared, because he was a part of their family.

"I know, but you will"

* * *

"Timmy Timmy Timmy Timmy!" the door swung open violently, crashing against the wall behind it as Dick and Jason almost sprinted in with Alfred and Bruce walking in gracefully behind them.

"The Doctors say you'll be out in a bit Babybird"

"So what do you want to do today?" they sat there, on the edge of his bed, broadly grinning. Tim just looked bemused.

"I-I… could we… maybe… um"

"Yes Babybird…"

"May we visit Mount Fuji please, if that's okay…" it was barely a whisper, too low for anyone to hear, but his blush was deep red all the same.

"What did you say Timmy" They leaned in, closer to hear him.

"May we visit Mount Fiji today please, if that's okay."

"Jason, I know what we're gonna do today."* That earned a facepalm from Jason and a chuckle from the adults.

"Alfred I think we need to restrict Dick's afterschool cartoons"

Tim just looked confused

"I'm sorry, I don't understand"

"Don't worry Timmy, when we get home you and me are having a Phineas and Ferb marathon"

* * *

***That was Celticlily... blame her, not me :)**

**Thanks for reading (I'm sorry if it was really bad :/), *hopefully* I'll be back in about a week**


	12. Phineas and Ferbathon

**First things first: any of you who are reading this and have been affected in any way by Hurricane Sandy; my prayers are with you and I hope you are doing okay :)**

**A short drabble for Dextra2 and Celticlily who wanted more about the Phineas and Ferb marathon... (And yes I must admit for a seventeen year old I have watched this programme far too much :/ )**

**Anyways enjoy (you should get my Halloween fic either later on today or tomorrow depending on whether my phone holds out long enough for me to upload it XD)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or Phineas and Ferb. **

* * *

They were huddled together on the sofa in the second floor living room that they had occupied and proclaimed their chill out room. Mr Wayne had actually been quite accommodating, freshening the room up for the twenty first century and kitting it out with a TV, sofa, any and every games console you could ever want etcetera. It now looked the part of a chill out room for boys their age; it even had a foosball table and a pool table. They did get an air hockey table, but they got a bit too competitive and the pucks started flying everywhere, so it was quickly banned by Alfred.

Currently they were sitting on the sofa together, watching Dick's endless supply of Phineas and Ferb DVDs. Jason had sat down first on one side of the couch, with Dick not far behind, throwing himself on top of Jason then lying down and pulling Tim with him until they were all on the sofa. Dick and Tim lying down, with their feet resting on an annoyed but vaguely amused Jason (well Dick's feet were on Jason's legs, Tim's couldn't reach, they were resting somewhere around Dick's knees).

They had just finished the third season, and Jason was putting on 'Phineas and Ferb Across the Second Dimension' when Tim piped up,

"So, basically this is a show about two kids who spend their summer creating impossible machines to stave off their boredom and fix/find out something; whilst their sister tries really hard to 'bust' them to their parents because she thinks it would be fun; meanwhile every episode they lose their pet platypus, who turns out to be a secret agent called 'Agent P' because he is a platypus and platypus begins with p,-"

"Really? That's so cool, I've never noticed that befo- OW JASON! What was that for?" Jason gave Dick an incredulous _how did you not notice that before?! _look,

"Oh nothing, you know… being a complete and total idiot, the usual." Once he was sure the two older boys were finished with their playful head-slapping and friendly insulting he continued,

"-who, in every episode, saves the tri-state area from Dr Doofenshmirtz and one of his equally impossible inators? And through it all they have a staple amount of lines they use *every* episode, that are kinda catchy in an annoying sort of way"

"That pretty much sums it up Babybird" Jason was grinning at him, his eyes sort of shining with; pride? And Dick had that look on his face that he got every time he saw a cute little puppy in a pet store window.

"… Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Because that's probably the most you have ever said at one time little brother" a deep blush spread across Tim's face and he snuggled _(buried) _himself further into Dick's lap. He was good at talking when he knew about the subject, like science, he knew a lot about science and really he could talk about it for days "… no don't be ashamed, I like it, talking confidently suits you" Dick started to awkwardly squeeze him into a closer hug, apparently it looked extremely amusing because Jason started laughing deeply.

"I hate to admit it but he's right Babybird, you should talk more often. Now Dick, shush, the movie's starting"

"Ooooh, little brother you're gonna like this one, it's awesome, it has an evil Perry and a kick ass Candice who looks out for her brothers, and inter-dimensional travel (which is actually completely different to how they depict it), and it's awesome and feature length and everything!

* * *

**So hope you enjoyed it, sorry if it was OOC, I have a chest infection and I really don't know what I'm doing anymore :/**

**... Random question that has been bugging me forever: Do you really have 102 days of summer holiday? because I get like 35-42 max :(**

**Oh and THANK-YOU SO MUCH for the 100+ reviews, every single one of them made my day :D**


	13. Halloween

**Someone please tell me this update has worked... I don't think it did (well atleast couldn't see it when I tried) the last time I tried :/ if it did and you're reading this twice I apologise XD but I hope you like the chapter :) **

**Happy All Hallows Eve, or All Saints day (depending on where you are in the world XD)**

**Okay so just so you know I don't celebrate Halloween, so I have never been trick or treating, so I don't know what you do really apart from what I have seen in films or looked up (because I am sad enough to do that) so I apologise now for any mistakes in the art of trick or treating.**

**Also there is a HUGE chapter in between this one and the Tokyo/Phineas and Ferbathon ones (involving Tim's parents) so you will feel a little left in the dark... I have referenced it in places, rest assured it will be the next chapter you get!**

**This is for Hex Enchantress who asked for Tim meeting some of the other teenaged heroes… sorry it's a really little section at the end… but I hope you'll like the chapter anyway.**

**Also sorry if this is OOC, I currently have a chest infection which almost turned into bronchitis (which wasn't helped by falling into a freezing cold river on Dartmoor) so my brain is currently elsewhere and I don't know what I'm doing anymore :/**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman **

* * *

"I don't understand... how have you never been Trick or Treating?!" Before Tim could say anything in reply Jason had punched his brother, why, Tim didn't know... but Dick suddenly looked very apologetically at him. He must have done something wrong, or else Dick wouldn't look so upset, it must be the fact that he has never been trick or treating before;

"I'm sorry" he really was, everyone was supposed to have gone trick or treating, he had read so, but he hadn't; his parents hadn't thought it progressive to his learning.

"S'not your fault Babybird" Jason replied this time, glaring at Dick. In some way it was his fault, if he wasn't such a failure, or he had shown his parents he was learning quickly then maybe- no, he shouldn't think like that, not anymore. His parents were bad people, bad bad people. They deserved to be in prison... they weren't always right... sometimes he was allowed to be right: right?

At least that's what they had been telling him over the past few weeks since it happened, just after they got back from Tokyo... just after their Phineas and Ferb Marathon.

He wasn't supposed to think about it at the moment, he was supposed to get used to _how things were now_ before having to deal with what happened; Mr Wayne said so, and Mr Wayne was Batman so he was always right.*

"But you're excited right Timmy?" he nodded enthusiastically, how could he not be excited about going trick or treating with Dick, Jason, Mr Wayne and Alfred? It was a physical impossibility.

He was also excited about the surprise they had planned for him afterwards. Really really excited. No one had ever planned a surprise for him before _(unless it was his parents going on a surprise trip) _and the fluttering he felt in his stomach was like a pleasant longing for the event that just seemed to grow with time. It was strange but nice in a way that he would want it to happen again.

* * *

Wayne Manor had been completely transformed for Halloween; flickering Jack-o'-Lanterns lined the windowsills; ghost and ghoul themed decorations plastered the walls and hung down from the ceiling of the entrance hall; lamps had been modified to give off tinted glows of red, orange and black, turning the manor into more of a haunted house than a stately home.

And there was still three hours until they were going trick or treating, three hours, what were they meant to do with three whole hours.

"Alllllfrrreed"

"Yes Master Richard…"

"Can we give it to him yet?" they were really excited (in reality Dick was definitely the most excited- like jumping up and down, walking on his hands excited- but they all had to admit it to some extent) about this; Tim's first Halloween at the manor… probably Tim's first real Halloween *ever*. So, as an extra surprise for Tim, Alfred had dug out one of the prototype Robin costumes and altered it so it would fit. It was going to be so cute, and Tim was going to be adorable and the only reason why they hadn't done it in the first place was because they didn't want him to figure out their secret because really Tim was too cute and fragile to be pulled into their world, especially when he didn't ask nor need it, but that was okay now because he knew (he knew for a long time and kept it a complete secret- even from Bruce- which was saying something) and so they didn't have to hide anything and Tim was going to be so cute, and he could go to the JLA Halloween party an meet everyone else, and he was going to be so cute-

"Master Richard, if you think any faster you are going to give me a headache."

"Sorry Alfred"

"That's alright Master Richard, and I do believe that Master Timothy would enjoy his new costume about now, wouldn't he"

"Yay!" and with that he was off, not waiting for Alfred to reply, only skidding to a halt outside the living room on the second floor, which served as the boys' chill out room, to grab Jason's hand and pull him off to Tim's room with him.

"Tim, Timmy, Timmy!" banging on someone's door is a sure way of getting their attention, even if it means annoying them or scaring them senseless (or even both). Although Tim definitely only looked scared senseless. Ignoring the shocked look on the younger boy's face, he grabbed Tim's hand and pulled him off too, heading towards the master bedroom.

"Dick, what?"

"Don't worry Timmy; we are merely giving you your Halloween surprise…"

Jason tried to give Tim a reassuring smile as they were both pulled along by their older brother, unfortunately it turned out to be more of a _what the hell are you doing Dick, you're scaring him, don't you think he's been through enough over the last few weeks as it is_ grimace, which, obviously, did nothing to reassure Tim what so ever;

"But I thought that was supposed to be after trick-"

"No, silly, that's your other surprise…"

"I have more than one surprise?!"

"Of course Babybird" Jason, who had somehow managed to unhand himself from Dick, was now opening the door to the master bedroom and slipping inside, holding the door for the other two to follow "this is your first Halloween with us, therefore it has to be ultra-special…"

"Ta-da… do you like it?" Jason was holding up the modified Robin costume, a huge grin on his face, whilst Dick was waving his arms around in a presenting manner adding a little bow for effect.

"Is that… for me?" Tim's face was saturated with shock, but a different shock from earlier. No the; _I don't know what you're doing, please stop it, you're scaring me… _shock but the; _this gift is for me, really? I really want to accept it with open arms because I love it so much, and it means so much to me that you want me to wear it… but am I really allowed to?_ shock.

(Because yes he had gotten much better at reading people- especially Timmy- now if Bruce would only notice that would make his day)

"Of course it's for you Babybird" Jason replied shoving the garment into Tim's still shocked hands

"Now go try it on, I mean it should fit 'cause Alfred made it, but it never hurts to be sure" when Tim didn't move the two of them practically shoved him to the master bathroom "Shoo little brother, Jason and I will be here when you've finished trying it on."

It only took Tim five minutes to get the costume on, which for a first timer in putting on Robin costumes (even if it was only a modified prototype without any armour) was pretty darn good.

The sleeves were a little too long, coming down just shy of his elbows, and the cape was a little on the long side also, but the rest fitted as snug as a bug. A really cute bug.

But no one was really focusing on anything but Tim and his smile; his all out as broad as anything smile. Because Tim was smiling. Actually smiling, after everything that had happened over the past few weeks Tim hadn't smiled once, not when they saved him, or when they sat him down to have a Harry Potter Marathon (they were slowly making their way through the very long lists of things Tim had never seen) and Dick had quoted the first four films of by heart… he even *tried* to do the accents and stuff, surprisingly he was best at imitating Hermione, but even that didn't get even a lip twitch from him.

But here he was smiling, and hiding a giggle behind a gloved hand.

"So what do you think little brother?"

They didn't get an answer as much as a giggle and Tim launching himself at them, giving them each a bone crunching hug before turning tail and running out of the room. For someone so small Tim was really fast, and he had found and latched onto Alfred muttering, "Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you, thank-you!" in a steady chant before they had really gotten out of the room.

Alfred was smiling warmly down at Tim and softly put down his tray in order to pick the small child up,

"I am going to get young Master Timothy here some cookies, now if you two want to go through with your plan to try to scare the living daylights out of Master Bruce by jumping him when he gets home in full Halloween costumes, you may wish to get changed now as he will be arriving home in about half an hour." He didn't wait for the boys to reply, or even to see their _how did he know about that?_ faces, he merely swooped Tim off to the kitchen. He did however hear the soft pattering of feet as the two over excited teenage boys raced to their rooms to get their costumes on.

* * *

Trick or Treating in Bristol was ordinary to say the least. Nothing like some of the horror stories Dick had heard from Barbara about trick or treating in central Gotham… he wasn't sure how many of them were true, but they freaked him out enough to ensure he stayed firmly by Bruce's side whenever they approached a door.

It took them a good twenty minutes to explain the ins and outs of door to door trick or treating, he said he understood, but he still had a nervous lip quiver that said something different; so Jason and Dick took one of his hands each… just for reassurance (not because it made them look that bit cuter and so gained them more candy, nope not at all) as they knocked on each door in their neighbourhood. Each door but the Drakes. They had never gone to the Drake's house on Halloween before because they had thought that *all* occupants were away, it was never decorated or lit up on Halloween, in fact there was rarely ever a light on in the house at all unless Jack and Janet were home, so they had dismissed it as empty; now even thinking about that made their hearts ache. The house had never been empty on Halloween (or any other day of the year), it had held prisoner a cute, amazing, smart little boy and it had taken them five years to figure that out. Five years too long. So now they completely steered away from the house, going to the other part of the neighbourhood, trying not to bring back bad memories, mainly for Tim, but for Dick and Jason also. Because who would want to go near the house that belonged to those monsters... the monsters that could do *that* to their son, and still wonder why they were being arrested for a second time in as many months.

They were all happy when they had managed to keep Tim smiling for their whole hour of roaming the streets… even if he had shied away from the first couple of houses. Now, as they rang the doorbell of their last house of the evening, he animatedly joined in with their shouts of "Trick or Treat", perfectly content with being cooed over, or being given sweets. Dick just hoped that this content behaviour would continue for more than just one night, though in reality he knew it most probably wouldn't.

* * *

They had enough candy to sink a battle ship, maybe two, and Alfred gave them all a very stern look when they arrived back at the manor. A look that said; _you are not eating all of that tonight… and if you do YOU are cleaning up the mess you make_, a look that was enough of a deterrent for any of them.

"Master Bruce I see your trick or treating efforts were fruitful"

"Oh yes Alfred" it was supposed to be an offhand nonchalant comment, but Bruce couldn't seem to make himself look unimposing, even in a Jack Sparrow costume. "How was everything home here?" Alfred had stayed back to feed the hungry trick or treaters,

"The usual Master Bruce, although there were a surprising amount of Batman this year, speaking of whom shall I prepare you suit Master Bruce?"

"Not tonight Alfred the Sirens are handling it"

"The Sirens… really Bruce, since when can we trust the Sirens?"

"Since both Selina and The Birds have been keeping a close eye on them." Dick wasn't convinced and made sure to narrow eye Bruce at every available opportunity… until he got bored, or forgot. Which was about two minutes.

"Are we going yet? Are we going yet?" he was excited to say the least for Timmy's surprise.

"Two minutes Dick, I just need to finish my call with Selina" the two older children made gagging noises and turned to drag a bewildered Tim downstairs, muttering things about how much he was going to love it and how excited they were.

* * *

It was a full ten minutes later when Bruce strode into the cave ready to go. He was greeted by two annoyed boys, drumming their fingers with stern expressions, and a slightly frightened one, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Okay we can go now"

"Yay!" his two official sons scooped his unofficial one up and ran to the transporter pad, whilst he typed in the codes to transport them from the Cave to the Watchtower.

There was a faint "You're going to so geek out about this Timmy" from Dick as they dematerialised and rematerialized in the middle of the JLA's annual Halloween Party.

"Wow!" was all that escaped Tim's lips as he glanced around the room that was full of heroes and their partners. However, the thing that most caught his attention was the window, and that left him pulling on Dick's ear. "We're in space… Dick; we're in space, like actual orbit… in artificial gravity and everything!"

"Told you you'd geek out Timmy, do you want to meet my friend-"

"Who do we have here Dick?" a man, who looked a lot like Bruce in build and aesthetics but who had a softer demeanour, appeared behind them. Dick smiled… Tim was gonna love tonight.

"Clark, Tim… Tim, Clark (or better known as Superman)" Tim squeaked and hid behind his legs, it wasn't at the fact that he was meeting Superman, but more about the fact that superman was dressed as the Hogfather…

"Lois have you on the fantasy novels again Clark?" the man didn't respond, but merely laughed and eyed his friend closely

"Jack Sparrow hummm?" he piped up after a while.

"I-" there was no real reasoning behind his choice of outfit, apart from the fact that he had let Dick, Jason and Alfred choose it… oh and he likes that hat.

"He just likes the hat" Dick chimes in.

"It's a cool hat!" that got everyone laughing and Dick turned to Tim,

"C'mon Tim let's leave the adults to it, I have some friends who are dying to meet you" they left quickly but were still in earshot to hear Clark comment to Bruce,

"Another one Bruce?"

* * *

"Okay Tim these are my friends, Titans… this is Tim, me and Jason's new brother." He was introduced to each of them in turn, who looked at him with equal fascination as he looked at them. There was Donna AKA Wonder Girl, Garth AKA Aqualad, Wally AKA Kid Flash and Roy AKA Speedy. They were really nice people, even if Kid Flash did make him nervous, what with his constant blurring and moving and circling, it was enough make anyone anxious. Donna and Garth were nice people, but his favourite was definitely Roy. He was funny and confident, and not afraid to speak his mind, or ruffle Tim's hair even though they had only known each other for a few minutes. It was nice. (It was also amusing that he called Dick 'Short Pants' just because…)

What wasn't nice however was being cooed and fawned over by what seemed to be the whole female superhero community. Until, of course, he was saved by Mr Wayne, who introduced him to someone his own age… a partner of Wonder Woman. Cassandra Sandsmark.

"Hi"

"Hi" It began as an awkward conversation, something their mentors were forcing upon them; but it ended up with both of them smiling and laughing as though they had known each other for years. Cassie (as she liked to be called… he had assured her that it was Tim and not Timothy) was a demi god, Zeus had had an affair with her mother, and she had been the result. (A good result he had assured her, making her blush bright red). Whilst he divulged how he came to live with Batman. Cassie was riveted… giving comforting words and hugs when it looked as though he needed it. He liked being with Cassie, she was nice and understood him and it reminded him of Dick's hugs back at the manor when she hugged him. He liked being with her so much that he did something he had never done before…

"Will you be my friend?"

"Yes" Best Halloween ever Tim thinks.

* * *

***Timmy is going to stop becoming so trusting of the adults in his life *cough with some help from Bruce, Dick, Jason and Alfred showing him how sometimes they aren't right cough* and he *is* going to start thinking for himself and trusting himself more... AND he's going to start calling Bruce Dad (in a couple of chapters hopefully if other things in this story don't catch my attention first :/) **

**Thank-you for reading… and happy holidays :)**


	14. The Nanny

**Hi, I'm sorry, I know I said that the next chapter would be the one in-between The Phineas and Ferbathon and Halloween, but I was in stats the other day (and actually paying attention... Which for Statistical Mathematics is something you should get an award for) and we were reading up on Siméon Poisson and the Poisson Distribution and my textbook said that when he was younger his nanny would hang him by the hands to stop him making trouble and all I could think was; "Plot bunny alert, someone would totally do that to Home Alone!Tim" so here is my written up plot bunny:**

* * *

Tim's last nanny was an old woman. She had grey long wiry hair that was whitening at the tips and always greasy. Her skin was wrinkled, partly from her age but partly because of the fixed frown she always wore. Her clothes were grey and dismal and they always stank of her many cats. At first tim had thought that they had a flecked pattern, but he soon found out they were hairs from her cats that had embedded themselves in the fabric.

Hairs that got everywhere. Like in his hair, on his clothes, in his eyes. Cat hair in your eyes is not a pleasant feeling.

She was Evil, with a capital E. She was grumpy and mean and moody and short tempered and just all around nasty. She kept telling him she applied for a housekeeping job. She hadn't been told about Tim but had found out about him on her second day. By then it was too late to quit, his parents were deep in South America on a dig and couldn't be reached. His nanny was stuck with him.

It hasn't been that bad at first, Tim had had plenty of nannies, some not as nice as others, and as far as nannies went she really hadn't been that bad... at the beginning. She had kep to her business and he had kept to his, making sure to eat at a different time to her they actually rarely saw each other during the day.

Until, of course, one day he slipped down the entrance hall stairs and right into a priceless Ming vase. He hadn't meant to, but he had lost his footing at the top of the stairs, whilst on his way down for lunch, and, although he had tried to stop himself, he couldn't and so crashed straight into the priceless artefact.

That had been the final straw for his nanny.

Now he was never let out of her sight lest he make more trouble. And when he said not out if her sight he meant it. He had to be in the room that she was, he could read, but any sort of drawing implement was out of the question... He wasn't allowed to just stay in his room and do the work that his parents - mother - had left him to get ready for the start of school, he had to be in *her* line of sight at all times.

It hadn't been that bad at the beginning, he could deal with it, try to be as polite as possible to convince her that he could behave and that she didn't need to tell his parents that he had been bad.

Then he found out that she smoked.

Well it wasn't so much that she smoked, but that she needed cigarettes to do it. This meant buying them, which meant leaving the manor, which, as specified by his parents, he was not allowed to do.

Under no uncertain terms.

But, still, when he found himself handcuffed to the wall it was still a little surprising. It became automatic *anytime* she left, apart from when she headed home at night he was handcuffed to the special hook in the kitchen. It was mildly disconcerting at first... But it was to stop him from destroying his parents' artefacts, the things they had worked so hard for, the things they left home, left *him* for.

So that was okay right? For the sake of the artefacts?

It had to be because he had this nanny for two holidays, his parents thought she was doing a good job, therefore it must be okay.

They had developed a sort of routine whenever she wanted to go out. She would first ask for his hands, and he would hold them out, palms up. Then she would take each of them in turn and place them in the handcuffs above his head, it was a little bit of a stretch, but his feet remained on the floor, and it was for his parents... So that was okay. His nanny would then proceed to ruffle his hair and walk out of the room, out of the house and on her way.

Usually it was only for a couple of hours, sometimes less, and she would be back un-cuffing him and expecting him to follow her around.

Except that once where she left and didn't come back until midday the next day. Where he was still standing, eyes open, blank faced and stomach growling.

It was for his parents right?

* * *

**Thanks for reading, I promise the next one will be the big chapter...**

**Supernova95 XD**


	15. Fear

**He he, -_-* sorry for the long wait, UCAS has officially taken over my life. That along with college work *cough chemistry and physics coursework cough* and interviews I have had no time to write, also I am still getting over my chest infection which means I am pretty much asleep all the time :/**

**Also it is very disconcerting that, when you've applied for Astophysics, you get an e-mail back from one of your universities saying "Thank-you for applying to English with Creative Writing" which, as much as I love writing, I couldn't do it as a degree... my dyslexia wouldn't cope :( so that sent me into a panic attack for about half an hour before I got another e-mail telling me it was a technical glitch :/.**

**Anyway, if you don't hate Tim's parents yet, you should by the end of the chapter, if not I have failed :(**

**Enjoy XD**

* * *

The floor was cold, metallic... and it was vibrating somewhat. The room... no; car, van, truck? smelled like petrol and metal, mixed with a side of burning. There was heat against his back, and a blindfold on his face. The engine was giving out a loud roar that was almost deafening.

"Timothy, darling everything's going to be okay, mommy and daddy are here now" Mom? No mom wasn't supposed to be here... Mr Wayne and Mr Gordon had told him that they had been bad and had to go away for a while, longer than they usually did at least. They had also told him that his parents *weren't* supposed to be near him. They weren't very forthcoming as to the why, but Mr Gordon was the Police Commissioner so it must be what all parents who had been bad people are told.

That was why he was inconveniencing Mr Wayne. Because they were't supposed to be here. But they were... Why were they? How did he get here? The last thing he remembered was walking to the park with Stephanie after school. Alfred was going to pick them up at three and they they were going back to the manor for dinn- Stephanie!?

He couldn't see, he had been blindfolded, did they take Stephanie too? Was she there? He couldn't move to find out, and his voice seemed to be failing him...

"Mommy? Mommy, what's going on?" His voice was small, full of fear. Tim realised it wasn't a sound he had made since living with Mr Wayne.

"Shhhh, darling, we're going away, just the three of us, to somewhere where they can't find us, where they can't take you away again." No, he didn't *want* to go away, he *liked* where he was he liked living in the manor with Mr Wayne and Alfred and Dick and Jason, he liked their hugs and their conversations and his games of chess with Alfred, and when Mr Wayne smiles and hugs him says well done when he comes home with a good school report and when Dick and Jason would chase him round the manor gardens, and they would climb trees and get their cloths muddy and then go swimming and everyone would just laugh. He liked living at the manor...

He didn't want to go with his parents.

They didn't love him. Because, he had figured that out, that that strange emotion he was always seeing in Mr Wayne's and Alfred's and Jason's and Dick's eyes: it was **love**.

It was better than anything he had ever imagined, he had seen love sometimes, when he was allowed to watch television... Bit it wasn't real love... no actor could portray real love properly, unless they truly weren't acting. He had read about it too, imagined what it would be like, dreamt what it may feel he didn't know love.

And he didn't know it because his parent's **didn't** love him. They didn't.

But that was okay, he didn't need them, he had a new... He had a family now... And he wanted to go home.

"Mommy, I want to go home" fear shook through him... He had demanded, he had used *want* he hadn't asked nicely. Perhaps he should have said 'May I go home', there wasn't the silence he had expected, no retort about his manners. His parents either hadn't noticed or didn't care and that scared him most of all.

"I know darling, but they'll find us there... We're going to find a new home a long way from Gotham, and we're going to go back to how things were"

"No."

"Pardon darling?"

"No, mommy, daddy, I want to go home, I want to go back to Wayne Manor" his mom was laughing, it was a high pitched squealy laugh and in a way gleeful.

It was scary.

"Why would you want to go back there? You've got us back now, you don't need them. We can be a family, you'll see." He didn't want to see, he wanted to go home, he wanted his parents to go away again... None of which he was going to get anytime soon it seemed.

He thought it best to stay silent for the minute, his mom was starting to get a desperate keen to her voice which was usually a precursor to shouting and loud noises and screaming and Tim didn't like that at all.

So he silently wondered about his father, probably the one driving the car, truck, van. He always thought his father was more caring than his mother, unless of course he was drunk, he had, for example brought Tim a small pot back from Peru for his third birthday (they had been away for the actual day) and he had hugged Tim. That was one of the only hugs Tim had gotten from his dad, but it was a good hug. Well at least at the time he thought it had been a good hug... But you know 20-20 hindsight and all that. Looking back his dad's hug had been cold, disconnected and fake. It had had nothing behind it but a need to look good in front of the childminder they had hired (she had been new, and after realising his parents had been away on his birthday she rung them up... They had brought back a pot, she had brought him a birthday cake, it had been the only birthday cake he had ever had. She hadn't been hired again).

"Mommy?" He piped up after they had been driving for a while longer "Where's Stephanie?"

"Who's Stephanie darling?"

"The girl I was with at the park, mommy what did you do to her?" To her, not with her, or about her; to her. His mom had taught him to be subtly blunt with his questions, to always ask what you mean and not be wishy washy with the wording. His heart beat in his ears as he awaited the answer to his painfully blunt question... painfully blunt for their family at least.

"Oh... Nothing darling, I didn't even notice you were with anyone". That was good news, Stephanie's okay, maybe she'll even find Mr Wayne or Alfred... then maybe they'll come and save him.

"Mommy, I'm scared I don't like being in the dark"

"I know darling, just a little longer, you can do that for mommy, can't you?"

"Yes mommy"

* * *

What he saw of the place they were staying in was minimal, the corridors to their room and the front desk. Being carried by his father, he merely saw stained yellow walls moving further and further away from him until they stopped at a door. For one thing the place stinked and he doubted they were in Gotham county any more. He didn't like the room they had either, it had one double bed and a small en-suit bathroom that smelled of too much bleach. The floor was brown and soiled, it didn't look like a place where he wanted to sleep at all.

He didn't like the door either, it was an old fashioned lock, one that needed a key to lock it. Not these new swipe cards; it meant that they actually had to lock the door manually... and they only had too keys, one for each of his parents.

It was only when they were all settled in the room with the lights on that he got to see his parents properly. They didn't look like his parents. They looked older, greyer and if he could use the world: psychotic.

His mother reminded him greatly of Cruella De Ville from a movie that Dick made him watch... 101 Dalmatians? Her hair was greying, her face shrunken in and body a lot thinner than he remembered.

His father had a couple of bruises obvious on his face and actually looked as though he had gained musculature, which was strange because he looked a lot more weary than Tim remembered, and whenever he looked at mommy his eyes turned possessive and protective rather than full of love. It was still a love of sorts, but a different type of love.

They went out to dinner and locked him in, he wished he could get a message back to the manor, tell him where he was, ask for help.

Hopefully they would find him anyhow; Mr Wayne was batman after all.

His parents were back an hour and a half later with a bread roll for him and looking extremely annoyed.

"He was supposed to have them today, he said he would have them today..."

"Janet, dear, calm down, I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding, he'll have them by tomorrow, and we can be on our way to Beijing." Beijing... China, one of the countries with no extradition treaty with the United States.

He would love to visit China, but he definitely did not want to go there with his parents for any length of time. "Tim, my boy, you'd like to visit China wouldn't you" he was talking as though he'd remembered that Tim was a child. They had never spoken to him in this sort of patronising voice before... ever, they seemed different from their usual cruel detachment, something had changed them, in them.

Tim didn't like it one bit.

Especially seeing a how his mother picked him up, plonking him on her lap and started stroking his hair. He might have liked it, if it had been in any way affectionate, but instead it was rough and and heartless. Not at all like Mr Wayne or Alfred.

"Timothy, darling, we have a long day tomorrow, it'll get better, I promise, but you need to sleep. Can you do that for me?" Nod and smile... nod and smile some more, they won't notice that you're lying, they never do. Besides, he won't be able to sleep on the floor; it's not like they would let him share the bed with them.

Maybe when they finally fell asleep he would be able to sneak a set of keys and get get a message home and stay out of sight until they came to collect him and take him home. Maybe he could find a nice adult to hide him away from his parents...

He never got the chance.

Not because they never fell asleep but because when they did there was a quiet clicking of the door unlocking.

Mr Way- Batman was here. Batman had come to save him... Batman had come to save **him**.

He was truly as magnificently imposing as they said. His presence in the shadows filled the room. Even when all that could be seen was the white lenses of his mask. It was an amazing sight, but, rather than being filled with fear; Tim was comforted and safe.

Batman had come to save him.

When a finger was brought to The Batman's lips Tim stayed silent, as he was picked up and carried out of the room, Tim stayed silent, as he was taken from the dark, dingy, smelly motel, Tim stayed silent, as he was carried to the black as night car outside situated just behind the the lit up police squad cars, Tim stayed silent.

The only time he broke his silence was when Batman put him in the car and made to leave, back to the police officers,

"Please Mr Wayne, don't leave; I'm scared." And he could have sworn that he saw The Batman frown, but he couldn't; because swearing was bad.

But he did smile.

"Officer, if you don't mind I'm going to take Tim here back to Gotham, there is a family there that is fretting with worry. I take it you can handle the escapees without my help" it wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Y-y-yes of course Mister Batman" Mr Wayne didn't respond but got into the drivers seat of the car and sped off.

* * *

"Where are they, they should be here by now?"

"Patience Master Jason, I'm sure they'll be here in due time..."

As if on que Dick came up from the cave screaming at the top of his voice, "They're coming, they're coming..."

Not waiting for another moment Jason joined Dick as they ran back into the cave.

Bruce had informed them that Tim knew their... secret from the batmobile as he drove Tim home, who apparently was out like a light. To be honest it wasn't really that surprising, they were talking about Tim.

Barely waiting for the car to stop the to elder boys scooped the younger ones into a bone crushing hug that must have lasted for at least five minutes.

"We're so glad you're okay Tim"

"Yeah, you're home now Babybird" The small sleepy boy looked up at them with the largest smile on his face that they had ever seen.

"I know" and he hugged them tightly and with purpose.

Jason and Dick thought that maybe Christmas had come early.

* * *

He woke up a couple of times that night sweating with fear and in a state if near hyperventilation. Mr Wayne was there each and every time, drawing him close into a hug, lovingly running his hands through Tim's hair. It was calming and most times he was soon back to sleep. Most times.

Of course sometimes he didn't.

"Mr Wayne?" He said while his face was pressed against the strong man's chest.

"Yes Tim?"

"Please may you teach me?" He was shifted so that he could see Mr Wayne's questioning face.

"Teach you?"

"Please. Teach me, train me like you did Dick and Jason..."

"Tim that's danger-"

"I don't wish to go out with you... I, I just don't want to be afraid anymore."

Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was pulled once more into the man's - _Dad's_ - chest.

"Of course I will Tim."

* * *

**I was thinking of doing a sister chapter to this from the Bat's point of view... Would that interest people?**

**Thank-you for reading :D**


	16. Happy Birthday Tim

**Okay, so I'm a little hyperactive tonight as i just received an offer from Exeter University to go and study an MPhys there in Physics with Astrophysics next year (MPhys stands for a Master of Physics if anyone was wondering).**

**It's the University I most want to go to and has a very achievable AAA entry requirements, so I though I'd celebrate with you guys by writing a fic... I know Tim's birthday is in July but ah well...**

**Enjoy :D**

***I wrote a really fluffy chapter* yay, I shouldn't be breaking anyone's hearts today :)**

* * *

"Timmy, Timmy, Timmy c'mon, you gotta wake up!"

He woke with a start, Dick was screaming at him in a frantic voice. The last time that had happened was when Jason had been badly hurt in a drug bust.

"Dick, what happened... Whose hurt... What can... I... do... to... help?" He slowed down at the sight of a smiling Dick Grayson straddling him at midnight "Dick?"

"Yes Timmy?"

"What are you doing?"

"Just getting into position to give you the best" _only_ "teddy bear birthday hug you have ever had" and without further ado he flipped them so that Tim was sitting in his lap and wrapped him up in a hug that lasted at least 10 minutes.

"Happy Birthday Timmy"

Tim smiled and hummed his reply into Dick's chest

"Thank-you big brother"

* * *

"Timmy? What are you doing?" Dick and Jason were watching their youngest with looks of bemused confusion.

"Getting ready for school"

"Babybird, it's Saturday... Not to mention your birthday... Why are you getting ready for school?"

"It is?... Oh, I forgot."

"That it was Saturday or your birthday?"

Tim looked up at them with the most innocent looking face they had ever seen,

"Both"

"But I woke you up this morning and give you a traditional, for this house at least, birthday bear hug... Don't you remember?"

Every part of Tim's skin that they could see burned bright red

"I thought I was having a really good dream for once" Tim soon found himself on the sofa sandwiched between his two older brothers having the life hugged out of him.

* * *

There was a knock at his door

"Master Timothy, would you come downstairs a moment please?"

"Sure Alfred" he was led towards the living room

"The young masters have been complaining all day at your instance at staying in your room, I must say I agree with them, it is your birthday Master Timothy, in this house that is a day to celebrate" he opened the door;

"SURPRISE!"

"And so celebrate we shall" Alfred ruffeled his hair and set about serving the variety of guests in the room. All his friends were there, there was Cassie, Bart (who was sent back from the future, using a technology that Tim apparently helps to invent, because he was rapidly ageing due to his speedster heritage) technically he was three, but looked Tim's age and Conner... Superman's son; who the Justice League had rescued from some very bad people a few months previous, and even Stephanie from school was there... Which would explain why Bart wasn't zooming round the room.

"Hey Tim"

"Hey Steph"

They looked at each other for a moment before Steph leaned up to peck a kiss on Tim's cheek, who promptly blushed a brilliant red colour.

"Happy birthday"

* * *

Tim's birthday cake was shaped like a robin, purpose baked by Alfred, using one of his secret family recipes for each part, even the multicoloured butter cream on top.

Dick and Jason kept grinning at him and glancing over at Mr Wayne, like they knew something he didn't know.

* * *

"Open mine first"

"No open mine"

"Nah, brothers' first... It's totally an unwritten rule"

Tim had presents... He had *presents* this was un-sailed territory for Tim, it had never happened before, where someone had actually bought him a present, put it in a box and wrapped it up with a card and a bow and everything. It was nice... More than nice, it was exciting and terrifying at the same time, what if he didn't like their present... It wasn't polite to reject it, or say that he didn't like it, but it also wasn't fair to keep it if he was never going to use it.

He decided to unwrap Alfred's first, as it was a safe bet that Alfred knew what he liked... Alfred always knew what everyone liked... Even Mr Wayne. Plus the fact that Alfred wasn't asking Tim to open his first.

It was a good choice; a wooden picture frame with a picture of the family that they had taken at Christmas out in the snowy grounds of the manor. Tim had had his first snowball fight that day, and once they were all soaked they went inside and sat around a fire and drank Alfred was currently one of his favourite memories.

Next he was practically being forced to open Jason and Dick's presents.

"So Babybird what do you think?" Tim was literally speechless. It was a complete chemistry set and an extremely high grade microscope.

"We thought they would go with the physics kit Alfred brought you for Christmas" they would... they definitely would.

After hugging his brothers he turned to his friends.

Cassie had bought him a book on Greek myths and legends. Bart had got him one on quantum mechanics saying that it would be useful later (just how much later Tim didn't know but he loved it anyway) and Connor had bought him a new camera (he had broken Tim's old one when they were helping him control his super strength issue, and had felt really bad about it even though Tim had assured him that it was okay and not his fault), which he just about managed to unwrap and gape at before having it stolen out of his hands and multiple pictures taken.

Once Tim had depleted his pile he couldn't help but notice that Mr Wayne hadn't got him anything. He knew that he shouldn't have expected it, but he couldn't help but feel his stomach clench in disappointment.

Disappointment that was short lived.

"Tim?" Mr Wayne was sitting in his chair in the living room patting his legs in an invitation. One Tim rarely passed up.

Once they were settled Mr Wayne pulled out a thick envelope and handed it to him.

"Happy Birthday Timmy, if you don't like it we can still stop it, it's not set in stone." Mr Wayne smiled weakly... Nervously like he really liked and wanted what Tim held in his hands and so was really afraid that Tim wouldn't.

Not that he should have been worried in the least, as when Tim saw what was in the envelope his face held an expression that was halfway between utter disbelief and overexcited jubilation. The sheer emotions running through him made him start crying and throw his arms around Mr- around his now completely legally, there is no one who can take this away from him now- father.

Mr Wayne wanted him as his son. Mr Wayne *wanted* him.

"Thank-you Daddy, it's perfect."

* * *

Tim fell asleep before the evening ended lending to the perfect ambush by his friends, family and new camera.

The best photo was taken by Alfred and was of Tim being carried by his father and dick and Jason standing either side of him, gently stroking the stirring boys hand and hair until he fell back asleep.

Perhaps he should get it framed for Christmas.

* * *

**Thanks for reading :D**


	17. Christmas

**Merry Christmas everyone :D**

* * *

Christmas in the Wayne household was nothing like his own. It was loud and bright and sparkly and full of sweet smelling spices and mince pies.

Mince pies were a new concept to Tim, their spiced pastry with sugar on top and sweet filling was… amazing. The homemade delights held a 'melt on the tongue' factor, that, aided by Alfred's traditional Cornish Clotted Cream-

("It is the only way to go young sir" Alfred even had it imported)

-made them addictive. Extremely addictive. Tim's not sure how many Alfred made but he **must** have eaten at least half of them. Dick and Jason found it funny that Tim could eat so many, as small as he was, they would literally sit there sniggering as he ate.

He didn't really mind, it just gave him all the more reason to sit and snigger at them after thrashing them at a snowball fight. It had been Mr Wayne and Tim against Dick and Jason with Alfred as referee. Really there had been no competition; Tim and Mr Wayne had been practicing snowball fighting techniques in their lessons, Dick and Jason never stood a chance. That didn't stop them however being extremely vocal about how they were going to beat them, nor did it stop them from moaning and whining after having to retreat into the manor in defeat sopping wet from head to toe and slowly freezing in the harsh Gotham weather. Tim even got a victory lap of the living room on Mr Wayne's shoulders just to rub it in further.

Most of Christmas was either spent out in the snow playing or in the living room, just being. Being together, as a family, sharing each other's company, opening presents, warming by the fire, listening to Dick and Jason's terrible singing. Just being.

And not being alone.

And it was nice, not being alone. Usually it was just Tim at Christmas. Up until he was five his nanny would put up a tree, give him a present, and then leave to be with their family. He had never had a Christmas dinner; he had never hung a stocking or decorated a tree.

Especially after he was old enough not to have a nanny. He couldn't put up a tree, no one gave him presents and Christmas lunch was sliced turkey meat and cranberry sauce sandwiches from Wal-Mart.

He hadn't particularly minded at the time, one couldn't miss what they never really had, but looking back now that he was at the manor; Tim had never really had a traditional American Christmas.

He had never had the experience of dragging Mr Wayne to church for the only time in a year; he had never helped decorate a house, or a tree he had never been visited by Father Christmas.

(Tim supposed that Santa thought nobody was home)

But here he was woken up at four in the morning by an actual family jumping up and down on his bed telling him to drag his stocking downstairs because they wanted to open presents… presents. He had presents. Actual physical -wrapped in beautiful multi-coloured paper- **presents**.

That alone made Tim run downstairs in such a hurry that he forgot his stocking and had to go back up and get it.

But he had presents.

But the best part of the day wasn't the presents; it wasn't the snowball fights, or the roast dinner.

It was sitting in front of the fire at the end of the day reading Alfred's present; Oliver Twist, well Mr Wayne reading Oliver Twist to him whilst he curled up on the man's lap completely exhausted.

Although it was only a matter of time before Dick and Jason got fed up of Christmas TV and started cooing over him, Tim was the happiest he had been in a long time. He finally saw the Christmas magic the movies talked about.

He saw the way it brought them all together in fun and laughter and food. He saw the way that Mr Wayne let down his barriers for a day and just enjoyed himself. He saw the way that Alfred didn't concentrate on etiquette but left the used wrapping paper strewn across the floor to be cleared up at another time so that he could spend some with his family.

He saw the way Dick and Jason got uncontrollably excited and found himself being caught up in the feeling too.

He saw how they were all taking notice of him

(they bought him presents and let him help with the decorations and the food and the snowman)

And he loved it. He loved his new family, and he loved Christmas for the first time in his life.


	18. Sick

**For Herolunchboxes on tumblr who wanted Sick!Tiny!Tim:**

**Enjoy XD**

* * *

Tim wasn't feeling that bad when he left the house that morning, and he definitely didn't need to be sent to the nurse's office. She probably had plenty of other, more important people and matters to attend to. She didn't need him sitting there messing up her immaculately made bed, it was like Alfred had in fact made it.

Maybe if he said he was fine, said his head wasn't pounding, said he wasn't nauseous and dizzy she would let him go and not be upset that he had taken up ten minutes of her precious time.

"So Timothy…" she was looking through her file, it was probably on him "…Tim, what's wrong?"

"Nothing ma'am" her eyes narrowed, searching him up and down, then her hand flew to his forehead.

When it made contact her eyes blew wide, like she was in shock or something and Tim began to get worried. What had he done to make her react like that? Normally when he said he was fine the teacher (they didn't have a nurse at his old school) sent him back to class tutting about how one shouldn't feign illness. But this nurse didn't, this nurse asked him again whether he was feeling okay. He nodded, not trusting his voice to betray that he in fact may throw up the meagre contents of his stomach (he hadn't really felt like eating breakfast that morning but what he did eat under Alfred's watchful eye didn't really want to stay down).

He just wanted to go back to class, and he definitely didn't want to go back to Wayne Manor. He couldn't ask Mr Wayne to come out of his work to look after him, although maybe he could ask Alfred… but he was integral to Mr Wayne's work so no, he couldn't do that. Work came before him.  
Suddenly there was something cold stuck to his forehead, something that the nurse was looking at with furrowed brow, and then she was looking at him, in what looked like confusion.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but can I go back to class now?" Maybe he had to ask. He didn't know why she wasn't letting him go back, everyone else did, especially when he asked. And he asked really nicely.

"No, not at the moment Tim." Well maybe he could go back a little later, and then he could be out of everyone's way. After he nodded his answer the nurse left.

Maybe he could go back to class now, she might not notice; but if she did he would just get in more trouble and might end up taking up more people's time.

"Hello Bruce Wayne's office how may I help you?"

"Um, hello. I'm Nurse Clancy from Gotham academy, may I speak with Mr Wayne please?"

"Of course, one moment please"

"…"

"Nurse Clancy, what's happened? What's wrong?"

"Mr Wayne, I currently have Tim Drake in my office, he says he's fine, but he's got a fever of 102, he's got a cold sweat and it as white as a sheet. I'm afraid he can't stay at school, as much as he wants to-"

"No that's fine nurse, I'll be about twenty minutes, thank-you"

"No problem Mr Wayne"

"Tim, Mr Wayne s going to be here to pick you up in twenty minutes. Tim? Timothy?" Tim could vaguely hear the nurse called for him, but he really just felt extremely hot and dizzy, and all he wanted to do was sleep, then maybe his headache would go away.

Ice to his forehead pushed those thoughts away and made him snap into semi-awareness.

"Timothy, Mr Wayne is going to be here in twenty minutes, but until then I need you to stay awake, can you do that for me?" NO! No no no no no, she called him, she called him and now he's going to have to come get him,

"No? Tim, I really need you to try-"

"No, don't call Mr Wayne… Please…" Even I his delirious state Tim could see the nurse's confusion at that. He had to make her understand "Please, I don't want to inconvenience him please…"

"Inconvenience? Mr Drake I can assure to that you being ill is no inconvenience to him." But he was being torn away from important work for him; Tim. How could that not be an inconvenience? It was then that Dick and Jason decided to barge into the office saving him from any further explanation on a topic that all adults should know about.

"TIMMY!" He felt Dick cling to him, pulling him into his side, gasping a bit at his temperature, but decidedly pulling him further into his side.

"Babybird, why didn't you tell us you were feeling sick?" Jason sat next to him, pulling Tim onto his lap and running his hand through Tim's hair vaguely resting it on his forehead every so often. He couldn't concentrate, but he could tell that Jason was angry with him

"I'm sorry, I'll do better next time, it's my fault ease don't be mad at me…"

"Timmy, how can we be mad at you for being ill, that's uncontrollable. I mean we a get ill, even Bruce."

"But it is my fault, my parents said so"

"Well, it's not, and we're not mad at you, just please tell us next time you're feeling ill as way need to take you to the doctors okay Babybird? We just don't want anything bad happening to you, you're our brother and we care about you"

Tim could hear their sigh of… Anger? Frustration? As he replied,

" 's nothin you should be back in class, 'm sorry" his words were getting more and more slurred as he was getting more and more tired. A tiredness that seemed to slip away into the realms of the dead when the next person made his way gracefully to the doorframe and into the office.

"Timothy Jackson Drake, a temperature of 102 is not nothing!" It was Alfred, and if Alfred was here then Mr Wayne couldn't be far behind.

"Tim why-?" Mr Wayne began but Tim cut him off, he had to explain himself, he had to make sure that Mr Wayne knew he was sorry and that he didn't mean to be a Buffon and hat he *would*go back to his class until the end of the day so that Mr Wayne could go back to work…

"No! I'm sorry, you shouldn't be here, I'm sorry please don't be mad at me, I'll go back to class and you can go back to work and I'm sorry for the inconvenience and-" Tim's eyes were still blown wide with shock as Mr Wayne scooped him into his arms and carried him out.

"Tim, there is no way you could ever be an inconvenience to me, especially if you are ill."

"But my parents-"

"Aren't here, are they?" He shook his head "but I am here, therefore what I say goes. And I say that Timmy being ill is not an inconvenience, and therefore Timmy being ill is not an inconvenience, understand?"

"Yes Mr Wayne" Tim was lying, he could tell. He has spent a great deal of his life lying and being lied to, he could now smell a lie a mile away. But really he could do nothing about it as Tim fell asleep in his arms. Not until morning at least.


	19. Creative Thinking

**Sooooo... I was planning to melt you all into a puddle of adorableness but that will probably be a different chapter... sorry Celticlily (EEEEK SNOW DAY!) -_-***

**Anyway, I was playing around with the style of my writing and was wondering what you thought...**

**Runs congruently with 'Ice Cream'**

* * *

"DAD!"

"Daddy!"

It was never a good sign when two pre-teens barrel into you after a long day at work.

"We missed you"

"Yeah, why did you have to go into work today?"

"We never get to spend any time with you anymore"

"What's so interesting that you would prefer to spend your days over at the _office _rather than here,with us?" Bruce chuckled.

"Nothing is more interesting than you two, but we're close too sealing a very important business deal at the moment and they need all hands on deck, especially from the owner of the company"

"Awwwwww" they both said in unison, matching pouts formed on both their faces. He smiled, ruffled their hair, and proceeded to take off his coat, put down his brief case and walk to the kitchen to get a much needed cup of coffee.

"You know the adorable puppy dog faces are coming along nicely, you may actually make them believable in a few months." He knew they would be frowning at each other, and a grin came to his lips, so he was a little sadistic; so sue him.

"You're lying, there is no way you can't be affected by our amazing puppy dog eyes and adorable little pouts" they ran after him in light footsteps that barely made a sound against the marble floor. He had trained them well.

"Obviously they are not as convincing as you think they are, because I'm pretty sure I just resisted them with valour" he scooped up a bit of coffee foam on two of his fingers and dabbed one of each of his children's noses, to be met with a symphony of choughs, splutters, sneezes and mumbling complaints of;

"Eeeew, that's gross"

"It tastes disgusting"

"Why would you do that?"

And the kitchen boomed with his laughter, "I give you two years and _both_ of you will be addicted to caffeine"

"No, never, I won't give into this, I shall resist it with all my miiiiiii" Might, Dick didn't get to finish the sentence before he was on the ground, squealing like a little girl as both he and Jason tickle attacked him. Dick was always the easiest to get on the floor laughing, it's probably what turned him from Batman to a capable father (most of the time).

Once they finally let him up, Dick want to get a glass of water from the sink.

"Wha-?" Bruce and Jason turned their heads, their curiosity peaking at the other's comment. Dick turned to them a confused frown on his face. "Bruce didn't you say that the Drakes weren't at Thursday's charity dinner because they were away at a dig in Zimbabwe?"

"Yes… they should be getting back this evening, Alfred offered to pick them all up at the airport but they refused, why?" His eldest son turned back to the kitchen window,

"Because there's a light on in Drake Manor, do you suppose they got back early?" Bruce looked concerned as he wondered towards the window.

"No they can't have, there's only one flight per week back from Zimbabwe and it's at eleven o'clock tonight" his expression immediately turned dark.

"What is it dad?" Jason said from behind him, obviously seeing the clenching of his fists.

"They left Tim at home" his son's shocked faces said it all.

"But he's what? Eight now? They've been in Zimbabwe for at least two weeks and left an eight year old at home? Alone?" Bruce sighed, even though it was probably true, they didn't know that

"Dick he might have a sitter, we can't just go-"

"But this has happened before hasn't it"

"Usually we look after him when they go away on trips-"

"Until last year when we suddenly only have his round once in a blue moon" Dick was angry, but his eyes lit up as he stormed fuming out of the room, his family following.

"Dick where are you going"

"To the cave"

"Dick Batman can't just burst in on their private lives-" his son turned to him a grin on his face,

"No but the Batman can look in on their private lives, specifically their financial lives".

Bruce really liked how his sons thought.

* * *

"Well that's interesting" after two hours of digging something interesting was a nice change from boring account data.

"What?"

"_Tim Drake_ owns a holding company... A subset of Drake enterprises, one that's not doing anything but recording profits in the millions, one that has deposits only in the couple of weeks after Jack and Janet Drake come back from their *archaeological* trips, never their business trips." Dick bit his lip, he didn't know what to make of it, apart from the fact that it was wrong, so he let Bruce take over.

"Jason can you bring up anything on the digs they've been on in the last few years?" Images flashed up onto the screen before them, along with a couple of brochures and a newspaper article.

After a audible gasp from Dick the three men smiled.

"We need to take a trip to the Gotham Museum, and then to Gordon."

"Gotham museum?"

"Evidence" The two boys nodded, smirks appearing on their faces.

* * *

"And you're certain about this?"

"All the evidence you need is in the file" he handed the beige folder over to the Commissioner

"Why the sudden interest in the illegal trading of archaeological artefacts on the black market?" He remained stoic

"We've been chasing these two for a while, they have been stealing from archaeological digs across the globe for years now, making the money they get from it untraceable by tying it up in a pice of the company owned by their son"

"Son? Does he have a part to play in this"

"He's eight" Gordon smiled at him knowingly, the man knew he had a soft spot when it came to children.

"So we're looking for two adults and a child coming off the eleven o'clock plane from Zimbabwe."

"Just two adults, we have reason to believe that as well as the illegal dealings in black market artefacts, they are also neglectful parents, Tim Drake hasn't had a nanny or sitter since he was five, but also hasn't been out of the country. Bruce Wayne is his Godfather and has taken the boy in a couple of times; he will be more than happy to look after him again"

"We'll keep it in mind" Gordon responded but it was too late, the room was empty and dark, and a small smile spread on his lips. His friend was a softie at heart.

* * *

"Commissioner; we've found him" Sure enough, the next SWAT member to come out of the house came out carrying a small child. Once the man came into ear shot he found himself asking,

"Is he okay?"

"For the most part. He's scared silly, but mainly unharmed"

For the most part, more like for a kid who spends most of his time fending for himself. The boy was small, and it made him think that maybe Batman had been wrong about his age.

His size wasn't helped by the fact that he was obviously severely underweight, although not malnutrition. He had a bad cut on his leg; one that he would make sure got some treatment. He walked round the SWAT member to come into Tim's view.

"Hello Tim, I'm Jim Gordon. I'm the Police Commissioner" he smiled and the child- Tim- smiled a little back. His little face contorted into a frown as though he was trying to figure something out.

"Does that mean that you're important?"

"You could say that." The SWAT officer put Tim down and Gordon knelt in from of him, trying to look as non-imposing as possible "I'm in charge of the Gotham City Police Force. Your parents aren't going to be home for a while and we don't want you saying at home all alone-"

"Why?" What had Tim's parents done to him? Illegal trade in black market artefacts was one thing, but child neglect, of such a beautiful and obviously thoughtful child at that, was another evil altogether.

"My parents leave me at home all the time when they go on their trips, or go out for the evening, or to dinner, or out on business. They said I could go too; when I'm older. But at the moment I need to stay at home be a good boy and not to break anything..." Gordon could tell that Tim was starting to panic, the little boy's breath started hitching and he talked at about ninety miles an hour, that sounded more like a pained whine than talking "I wasn't a good boy today, 'cause I broke the cupboard door and I couldn't put back the pans that fell onto the floor because they're too heavy... and I cut my leg on the door and I didn't clean up the mess I made and so mommy and daddy will be mad at me when they come home and-" He knew that he shouldn't, that it was against protocol but what the hell this was Gotham stuff protocol and so he pulled Tim up into a hug. Because one; he was trying to calm the boy down from his hyperventilation, and two; Tim needed a hug because it was very probable that he never got them.

"Where did you find him?" he hugged a bit tighter as he asked the SWAT officer still standing there, probably as perplexed about Tim's parents as he was.

"In a cupboard. I thought the sirens had scared him into hiding there but I think he was scared of his-" Gordon cut him off with a small nod and grimaced in agreement to the man's conclusions.

"How old did you say he was?"

"Eight"

"You're joking..." he really needed to start trusting the Batman more… not that he didn't, but start trusting that the guy is meticulous, obsessive… "he looks no more than five at best"

He put Tim down again. He needed Tim to hear this, to be able to look into his eyes and believe this, because he had probably been indoctrinated by his parents enough not to "Tim, your parents may have left you alone in the house a lot, but we don't like that, it's dangerous. So you're going to be staying with your neighbour, Mr Wayne, for a while. Is that okay?" Tim's face brightened at the mention of Mr Wayne

"Yes please, I would like that a lot."


	20. The Tooth Fairy

**So this came from a headcannon by Winterysomnium on Tumblr that she kindly let me use**

**Celticlily I am utterly determined to melt you into a puddle of adorableness before Monday ;)**

**Enjoy XD**

* * *

Tim had lost a tooth. It had been wobbling for a while, since before the Mr Wayne kindly took him in.

And then came the daunting task of asking Mr Wayne if he could ask the tooth fairy to come that night and pick it up. It's not that he thought that the man wouldn't, but he didn't want to inconvenience him. Mr Wayne led a busy life and had far more important matters to consider than asking the Tooth Fairy to pick up his recently fallen out molar.

But the Tooth Fairy could use his tooth right? That's why they came to pick them all up, because they were useful. So he really should, shouldn't he? Mr Wayne would understand, he was a child once and his parents probably asked the Tooth Fairy to visit them all the time… or should he ask Alfred? Alfred knows everything and everyone; chances are he knows the Tooth Fairy.

Nobody can refuse Alfred, but Tim can't find Alfred. He's not in the kitchen, the dining room or any of their bedrooms. The only place he hasn't looked is in Mr Wayne's study, where Mr Wayne was probably working, he didn't want to bother Mr Wayne but he was getting tired and the Tooth Fairy needed his tooth, right?

* * *

It wasn't very late when there was a small knock at his study door. In tiptoed a downcast and weary looking eight-year-old, his eyes were focused intently on the floor and somehow Tim managed to look twice as small as he actually was.

He was shuffling his feet in such an awkward manner that Bruce felt inclined to reach out and pull him onto his lap, but he restrained himself. Tim had been living at the Manor for just over the week and anytime someone went to physically touch him he would look up with bright blue questioning eyes that made even Dick pause before hug tackling.

They had come to understand that Tim was touch-starved.

Touching in the Drake household was reserved for when Tim had been perceived to have done something wrong. There were never any hugs, only harsh hands used to drag him to his room and make him stay there until he could act like a mature member of society.

Throughout the first five years of his life, nannies were told how to discipline him by his parents; on pain of ending up blacklisted from the trade when Jack and Janet Drake returned from whatever trip they had been on.

The boy hadn't had a nice childhood; he was not spoiled, but the polar opposite. He was neglected and psychologically (if not physically) abused by people he trusted.

Suddenly changing what Tim's use to could be detrimental to the eight year old figuring out that: no, parents were not supposed to only be around for a few weeks in a year, and children were supposed to have fun and laugh and smile and not act like a fully grown adult until they had to (and then only in polite company). It was going to be a slow process to get Tim to being the smiling little angel they all knew a long time ago; but they were going to get there.

Even if that meant that they had to make some sacrifices in the short term and be extra careful around Tim, they would get there.

"Master Timothy is everything alright?" Alfred had also seen the child grace their presence and took the more civil approach than Bruce's 'He'll talk when he wants to'

Tim looked up, eyes confused and face conflicted. He was ringing his hands and shuffling his feet just a little bit more.

"Yes Alfred, everything is fine." His voice could rival that of a Wayne Enterprises businessman, though it suddenly turned very small and unsure, as though he had scripted and practiced some answers (like what to say if an adult asked him how he was), but when it came to parts of conversations where he was just talking, off the top of his head, he stopped. Every time Tim did not know the 'appropriate' answer, or every time he asked for something, it was the same small, almost frightened, voice. "I merely wished to ask if maybe you or Mr Wayne could give the permission for the Tooth Fairy to visit tonight as I was just brushing my teeth and my bottom left back molar fell out, and I know that you both are extremely busy men and I don't want to be a bother; but the Tooth Fairy needs teeth and I just lost one so they would probably like to have it, but they need your permission to come collect it so I thought you should know" Tim's eyes had fallen back to the floor halfway through his speech that came across halfway way between scared mumbling and hyperventilation.

The first question that crossed Bruce's mind was why Tim thought that they needed to give the 'Tooth Fairy' permission to visit in the first place, but when he looked at Alfred, when he saw the sad and worried expression on the older man's face, he realised how stupid he was being.

Tim hadn't had a nanny since he was five, and his parents were always in some country or another, so when his teeth started falling out there was no one there to take them away.

There was no one there to give him the happiness that came with small notes from a child's own personal fairy, or from the small amount of money they found under their pillows in the morning.

Bruce often forgot the small things that others in Tim's position had that Tim didn't, and Bruce didn't know quite how to handle it, how to make it better.

As always though, Alfred makes everything better.

"Master Timothy I do not know about your old home, but in this one Tooth Fairies have free reign, so long as you put your tooth under your pillow" the 'and tell us you have' was left unsaid because Alfred knew everything that went on under this roof.

Tim's looked up in disbelief.

"R-really?"

"Of course Master Timothy, Tooth Fairies are amazing creatures, aren't they Master Bruce?" he smiles and nods to his Butler's explanation "they do not have to seek our permission to enter this house"

"There… There are more than one?"

"Of course" this time Bruce chimed in, "There is an army of Tooth Fairies, one for each child, you can even write to them if you want"

"Really?" Tim smile was wide, he looked as though he had just woken up on Christmas morning.

They both smiled and nodded, Alfred led Tim from the room to go and write a letter to his very own Tooth Fairy.

* * *

The morning was an interesting one, Alfred had put a lengthy letter and four dollars under Tim's pillow (one for each of the teeth he had currently lost), which Tim couldn't help but bounce around with in excitement and utter astonishment, it definitely brightened up the breakfast table in the morning.

* * *

Tim had a Tooth Fairy, an actual Tooth Fairy. His name was Adohafin and he was really sorry that his parents wouldn't let him collect his teeth for quite a while, and that his friends regularly visited Dick and Jason, and that the Waynes were a lovely family, that always let the Tooth Fairies do their job.

And with that he couldn't help but give Mr Wayne a hug, because Tim had tooth fairy, and Mr Wayne let him take Tim's teeth.

He had apologised straight afterwards, because he wasn't supposed to hug kind men he was inconveniencing with his presence. Mr Wayne was really nice about it though, and pulled him onto his lap telling him the Tim always had the right to hug him.

He was obviously just trying to be nice.


	21. Learning To Cry

**For Unicorns5eva on Tumblr, this was meant to be cute... But it turned to this:**

**Featuring baby Dami XD**

* * *

Tim didn't quite know what to do. He had never been in this situation before; he had never come across the feeling of being replaced.

But here he was, sitting in the manor's drawing room with the rest of his family, well he was sitting, the rest if his family were standing around their newest edition and cooing. Damian. Damian al Gaul Wayne. Four years old, actually Daddy's son and Damian knew it. He knew that somehow he was special and Tim wasn't, not really. That somehow he was better than Tim, because the people were crowding around him and not the little boy sitting on the too big sofa.

Damian already hated him, but Tim didn't know why, all he knew was that Damian bit him for no apparent reason, and that he was going to have a huge purple bruise on his arm the next day. He had tried telling Dick, tried to persuade him that the little boy they had acquired was in fact a demon in disguise. But Dick hadn't believed him, he had laughed and called it sibling rivalry and so Tim knew that he was going to have to wear a long sleeved shirt tomorrow, because if Dick didn't believe him today, why would he believe him tomorrow?

Perhaps it was the lack of tears; Tim's inability to cry when hurt. He had thought that tears got you nowhere, nobody cared when you got that prickling feeling in your eyes, or when they glistened wet, threatening to overflow, or even when tears streamed down your cheeks.

So Tim had stopped crying altogether.

He hadn't cried when their new four year old bit his arm; but Damian had cried when Tim told him off. Damian should have known better at his age; Tim knew better at his age. But it was because Damian started crying that Tim was sitting alone on the sofa and Damian was being cooed over.

Tim couldn't help but keep thinking about the dirty look Dick had given him, the accusation of 'what did you do? First you accuse him of biting you and now this?' and it made his chest hurt. Because now that Dick had a new shiny toy to play with he didn't love Tim anymore.

What if the rest of them didn't love Tim anymore? What if Jason wouldn't play video games with him anymore? What if Mr Pennyworth wouldn't make him cookies or hot chocolate like everyone else.

What if daddy decides that because his real son doesn't like Tim, that he won't adopt Tim anymore and Tim would have to go back to his old house?

Tim really didn't want to go back to that big empty manor. It wasn't home. But he would rather go there willingly than be sent away. Then again, perhaps he would just go and sit in his room, daddy wouldn't like it if he left the house without telling him.

* * *

It had barely been two minutes when he heard a knock at his door.

"Tim? Can I come in?" He really thought that it would have taken longer for daddy to come to the conclusion that they didn't love Tim anymore and that he had to go. Resigning himself to this fact Tim trudged slowly over to the door, unlocking it and then shuffled back to curl up on his bed again. He heard more than saw the figure come into the room, and, after a few moments, he felt the mattress dip due to their weight. "Timmy? Timmy what's wrong?"

For the first time in a very long time he felt tears prickling in his eyes.

And daddy noticed. He actually picked him up off the bed and hugged him into his chest. Like on tv.

It was nice, so nice that Tim balled his fists in the collar of daddy's jumper and refused to let go. Ever.

"Tim?" The man's voice was laced with worry, but at the moment Tim couldn't care less. "Tim what's that?" He looked down at what his daddy was talking about, but only snuggled against the man further. "Tim?" He was using his stern voice "did Damian do that?" Tim nodded, scrunching his eyes closed as tears threatened to fall. "Why didn't you tell someone about it?"

"I did but Dick didn't believe me, so I decided to tell Damian off, because you shouldn't bite people, but he started crying and then everyone thought I had done something, and nobody would look at me and got sent to sit on the sofa and so I thought you didn't love me anymore and were going to send me away... Please don't send me away, I like it here and I promise to be good and not get in the way, and if you don't love me anymore I can still be useful, I promise, just please don't send me away" Tim dropped his fists to his sides, tear drops wetting Mr Wayne's jumper.

But Mr Wayne didn't seem to care, he just hugged Tim tighter.

"Timmy, I love you so much, you are one of the best things to ever happen in my life, and I promise that nobody is being sent anywhere... Okay?"

Tim looked up at the man, searching for the lie, the glint in his eye that indicated that he wasn't telling the truth. Tim found nothing and hugged his father back.

"Okay"

He smiled.


	22. It's Only Magic

**Hey so long time no update :(**

**Anyway here is one for your viewing pleasure... an anon on my tumblr asked for a follow up to The Nanny... and voilà XD **

* * *

Tim was shaking, properly vibrating, almost convulsing and muttering.

"_I'll be good"_

Backing up against the wood panelled walls, shifting into a darkened corner, becoming as small as physically possible, trying to disappear, cease to exist as though he was never there at all.

And shaking.

Each sob wracking his tiny body to the point that it looked as though he could shake himself apart.

"_I won't slip"_

He had only gone to Roy's party; five hours, just five hours, that all and when he comes home all he want to do is cuddle with his little brother. Because let's face it, Roy's parties are good for the first hour, two tops, then it just gets trying.

But when he gets home his little brother stops, and goes sheet white, his face is so pale he could be a ghost, and **won't stop shaking**.

"_I won't break anything" _

He's whimpering now, small gasps escaping tight lips, his breathing is quickening with every step Dick makes towards him.

So Dick stops sits down on the floor and waits, because he can't do anything if Tim won't tell him what's wrong. There are no tears from the boy, just panic and shaking, _because of something Dick did_, think idiot, what have you done to spook him?

He draws a blank, he has done nothing different.

"_I promise"_

Dick finally drops everything, he probably should have done that as he came in the door, but he was just so excited to see Timmy. And almost pounces on his hyperventilating brother, he wishes Jason and Bruce were there, but they were on patrol this evening and Alfred was probably down in the cave…

It was just him and Timmy, he could do this.

The small boy's chest raised and fell rapidly, every breath feeling in Dick's arms as though it must have hurt to take.

"_Just please don't leave me there" _

He half wanted to shake the boy's shoulders until he told him what he's talking about, where did who leave him?... what did they do to you?

But he doesn't, he just holds and cuddles and sooths, until the shaking stops, and the sobbing stops and the breathing evens.

Until Tim falls asleep.

"_Please, it hurts" _

* * *

The sound of the front door shutting and someone shouting "I'm home" was one of the welcoming sounds I the world, Tim had decided. It meant that he wasn't alone, that there was someone there who cared about him and that there was someone there who loved him. The 'I'm back' cuddles weren't half bad either, especially when the person cuddling him was Dick.

But this time, when he ran into the foyer to jump hug his brother, he was confronted by something he never thought he'd see again.

Handcuffs.

Shiny grey metallic loops of stainless steel that meant only one thing;

Everyone was leaving and they didn't want him braking things when they were gone.

They had obviously learnt from when he broke that vase in his first week here that he couldn't be trusted to be good. That was made even more painfully obvious when he didn't offer his hands like a **good** boy should. No, he stumbled backwards as fast as he could, cowering against a wall, and then in a corner because-

_Dick wouldn't do that to him, he wouldn't, it hurt because the peg was always too high and the cuffs dug into his wrists. Dick wouldn't make him hurt, Dick had never made him hurt, neither had Mr Wayne or Alfred or Jason._

_Why would they start now?-_

Tim was only mildly aware of the _words- whimperskeenspainedmewls_- that were coming from his mouth, but not enough to stop them coming like he **should** be able to.

It was like his mind and body were too separate entities… his body a small shaking cowering _bad_ boy, who can't do anything right; and his mind, aware of nothing except the hand-cuffs still in Dick's hand.

Until they aren't.

Until they drop unceremoniously to the ground with a soft thump along with the rest of Dick's bags and his brother's arms are around him, soothing him, giving him permission to stop and to sleep.

So he does.

* * *

A small smile is etched on Alfred's face, as he heard the Batmobile skid to a halt in the cave, because the great and mighty Batman cut his patrol short after learning that young Master Timothy had a panic attack for a yet undetermined cause. There may be hope for Master Bruce yet. Especially if the way both he and Master Jason pushed passed him after changing out of their costumes in record time was anything to go by, he would hazard a guess that the Batman was flat out worried.

It was times like this that being the butler to the Wayne family definitely had its perks.

There was nothing better in the world than being able to silently observe a man, who, by all rights, had never wanted to be a father, had never expected to be a father, but who was definitely becoming a father; and was doing a damn good job of it as he lifts his smallest child into his arms and rubbing soothing circles into his back. Master Timothy is not quite awake yet but even in his groggy state he looks like Bruce has just given him the world, and well maybe he had.

It is doubtful that the young boy has ever been held as such, with such love and care. It is in his sparkling eyes as he looks at those around him in adoration and disbelief; it was a look no eight year old child should have to make, and as much as that made anger roll in the elderly butler's gut, he was just happy that he was able to see the young boy heal.

* * *

After scooping Tim up and just holding him for a few minutes, Bruce gently sat back down on the bed, Tim curling into his lap. The man dwarfed Tim in ways that he had never done with Dick or Jason, Tim was just so small that it was difficult to remember that he was eight.

It wasn't until large hands gently nudged him that Tim moved at all, then, and only then, did he sit up on Bruce's knee and look at the man rubbed a thumb across his forehead.

"Timothy, are you going to tell me what happened?" he looked scared, utterly frightened for a moment before his breathing picked up again. But then so did Bruce's hand as it made soothing motions in his hair.

Bruce didn't know whether to be enamoured pleased or angry that Tim relaxed and sank into his chest at that small show of comfort.

"I- It's just that Dick was brought them home and I thought- I- I thought you were going to leave me like she did, and I-… I'm sorry Mr Wayne, it hurt" even the Batman couldn't manage to school the worry and sadness from his face,

"What hurt Timmy?" Tim stared at him as though it was common knowledge and that he should be ashamed of himself for not knowing.

"The handcuffs Mr Wayne, I'm sorry I shouldn't have acted out" Tim went blank, his emotionless eyes staring at the second button on his haphazardly pulled on shirt "I'll be a good boy, where is the peg?"

It took a moment to get over the shock of the implications of that sentence, so much so that he just had to check, because it can't mean what Bruce think Tim means,

"What peg?"

"The one you have to tie me to when you go out and you don't want me to break things" he barely had a moment to register the nonchalant nature of Tim's comment before he suddenly had three lumps on him rather than just two.

"Timmy? Is that what this is about? The handcuffs from Roy's party? Oh Timmy, they're not real. Roy thought it would be funny to get me some magic handcuffs, playing a jibe at something or another." Bruce could feel Dick's arms hugging tighter. "No one's going to tie you to a peg I promise"

"Really?" it was barely a whisper but the scepticism of Tim's question rang clear throughout the room "Miss Connors said that it was what everyone did to messy disgraceful children"

"Well Miss Connors is stupid, because only stupid people can think that you're stupid and disgraceful, you are very graceful and amazing and we don't tie _anyone_ to pegs anymore because it's against the law. OKAY?"

Timmy nodded sinking deeper into their hug. One thing was sure when Tim was finally asleep Batman and Robin were going to pay a little visit to Miss Connors, nobody hurts their Timmy and gets away with deliberate child cruelty.


	23. Of Vases and Broken Things

**For BlazingSilverStar XD, great minds obviously think alike because this has been sitting half done in my folder for a while**

**I hope you like it... **

* * *

Wayne Manor was completely different than what he remembered. It was true that Tim hadn't been there in a while; nine months and fifteen days to be exact, and even then it was only for a few hours; his parents had thought it appropriate for him to accompany them to the annual police gala that they were actually at home for for once.

It was probably just so that people saw them together as a family; so that Mr Wayne saw them all together now that he was no longer allowed to have sleep overs with Dick and Jason.

But it just looked so much bigger now; now that there were no people dancing in the entrance hall, or drunkenly swooning all over the place. It looked bigger now there was no music or decorations, now that it was just a home: his new home.

That sounded nice, his new _home. _He had never had a home before, not really, not in the way it's described in Tim's books. He thought things like that only happened in fairy tales, a home wasn't about love and hugs and safety, it was about a place to sleep and a place for propriety, it wasn't about parents cuddling or reading to him by the fire in the winter, it was about caretakers and empty corridors.

Except it wasn't.

Apparently.

Because he has been here less than a week and he has been hugged so much that he feels like he's being suffocated… in a good way, and Mr Wayne stayed up last night because Tim was being bad and not getting sleep when he was supposed to, but he didn't shout at him, or lock him in his room, Mr Wayne picked him up and took him to Mr Wayne's own personal Library which has a fire and a really comfy settee and he picked out a book: Grimm Fairy Tales, sat down, lifted Tim onto his lap, and read to him.

Mr Wayne read to him, it was mildly disconcerting.

Because; what has he done to deserve Mr Wayne reading to him. No one's ever read to him before. Not a story book about goblins and princes and princesses and kingdoms being plagues by mythical creatures.

Because Tim's old enough to read on his own; because his mother taught him when he was younger; because he can do it himself- he doesn't _need_ to be read to. And he doesn't need story books about fictional people, that won't help him learn, all it would do is fill his head with silly stories of faraway lands that don't exist and happy endings that never occur. At least that's what his parents told him, and his caretakers, wherever they go away.

He told Mr Wayne this, he really did, but Mr Wayne took no notice. He took no notice of Tim telling him that he wasn't allowed to read fairy stories, and that Mr Wayne really didn't need to take stop the _important_ work he was doing all because Tim's bad and can't get to sleep. Because Tim isn't that important, not really.

But Mr Wayne _took no notice_. He's never had somebody take no notice of him before when he tells them they don't _need_ to be doing what they're doing. But Mr Wayne _didn't_, Mr Wayne just smiled and held him tighter, and told him to hush.

And read to him.

His voice was so low, like a hum, it was nice and relaxing, and soothing, and Tim doesn't remember much after the first page and a bit of Rumpelstiltskin because he fell asleep, on Mr Wayne.

He fell asleep on Mr Wayne.

The thought alone was enough to make him bolt awake in the morning, a cold sweat running down his back because-

_He should not have fallen asleep on Mr Wayne._ It was rude and he is a guest here, in his new home, and it was bad of him to take advantage of that. Because Mr Wayne had to take him upstairs to his room afterwards, and he shouldn't have had to carry Tim anywhere; Tim shouldn't have been such a burden.

And when you're a burden, you have to apologise… right? It was the correct thing to do; if you do something wrong, so the moment Tim was dressed and as presentable as he could get he hurried back to Mr Wayne's study.

Perhaps he shouldn't have hurried.

Because outside the study was, what Tim thought to be, a Ming dynasty vase sitting atop a relatively ornate column acting as a stand. Tim really should have seen it before he did, he should have known it was there and been able to avoid bumping into it, he should have been looking where he was going instead of being caught up in hurrying to apologise to Mr Wayne.

Tim should have been a lot of things, but what he was, was bad and stupid and just messes everything up, the crash, shatter and thump that resonated through the hallway was proof of that.

What really confused him, however, was that about ten seconds (eleven and a half, but whose counting?) later Mr Wayne appeared at his study door and asked if Tim was alright. He was supposed to be angry at Tim for breaking the vase, and for making Mr Wayne carry him to bed the night before, he's not supposed to ask if Tim is alright after being really bad.

"Tim? Tim we need to get your hands cleaned up, okay?" hands? Oh, they're bleeding, and Mr Wayne's picking him up, and Tim's pretty sure he's in shock, because nobody picks Tim up, or cleans him up, or not shout at him for breaking a, probably priceless- it's worth more than Tim, vase.

He's in so much shock that he doesn't notice that he's hyperventilating, which is inherently a bad thing because hyperventilation leaves him feeling extremely lightheaded and sick…

But he broke Mr Wayne's vase.

He's suddenly in the bathroom just how?... _Mr Wayne was getting him cleaned up_ and Mr Wayne is saying something… and Tim _needs_ to pay attention because he can't make any more trouble, or be anymore rude or mess anything else up, because Mr Wayne will send him back to his house and he doesn't want to go back because he _likes_ it here. He just needs to focus and-

"-derstand Tim, I'm not mad at all-"

"But I broke your vase…"

"No, you broke an aesthetic replica of a vase, Dick's lived here long enough to mean that all the collectors' items to the vault in the basement; he had a habit of swinging from the chandeliers when he was younger, so you have nothing to be upset about, okay?"

Okay? Why would Mr Wayne be asking if he's okay? Tim broke *his* vase, surely Mr Wayne should be the one who's upset, angry even. But-

Tim doesn't think that's the answer Mr Wayne wants, and he really can't be bad anymore so-

"Okay"

But Tim broke Mr Wayne's vase so he's going to have to stay in his room for the next few days; because as much as Mr Wayne will deny it-

_He's only being nice_-

Mr Wayne won't want to see Tim for a while, he knows how these things work.

* * *

**Also, question: should I rearrange the chapters so you read them in order or is everyone okay with the system at the moment?**


	24. Worry

**So here's that sister chapter to 'Fear' I promised you... enjoy XD**

* * *

_3:18 pm_

A phone call was nothing strange in the Wayne household; neither was Bruce having to answer it because Alfred was busy or, as there were now so many people in the house, out playing taxi service.

What was strange however was the concern in the Commissioner's voice when he picked up.

"Bruce" The strain of the job was always evident in Commissioner Gordon's voice, but this particular pitch was reserved only for when Arkham or Blackgate had had a break out… but then why would the Commissioner call Bruce Wayne; not Batman.

"Jim, what is it? What's wrong?"

* * *

_3:03 pm_

"Excuse me, are you Mr Alfred" a small girl, just a little bit taller than Tim, with blond hair; and eggplant jacket and big blue tear filled eyes tugged on his suit pant leg.

"Yes…" realisation set in "and you must be Miss Stephanie, Master Timothy has told us all a lot about you-" she nodded, the frantic movements told him her tearing eyes weren't just because she had fallen over on the play equipment and hurt herself; "Miss Stephanie," his voice turned from friendly butler to worried grandfather in the blink of an eye "is everything alright? Where is Master Timothy?"

That started the tears rolling afresh down her already stained cheeks.

"They took him sir"

"Who took him?"

"I'm sorry sir, I don't know, he looked like he had fallen asleep, and a man was carrying him to a van where a mean looking woman was waiting and they drove off, and they said they were his parents; but that can't be right, because Tim said his parents had been bad and had gone away for a long time and that Mr Wayne was his daddy now."

"Oh my," Alfred stared at the young child for a second, certain that shock had overcome his senses for that brief moment before he came back to himself with a resolve he hasn't felt in years, "Miss Stephanie, we need to return to Wayne Manor immediately, I do believe that Master Timothy may be in some danger"

"You're going to help him, right Mr Alfred? You're going to get him back… he going to be okay?"

"Of course he is Miss, you'll see, Master Bruce is a miracle worker."

* * *

_3:19 pm_

"Jim, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Bruce," his voice was obviously shaking, even more so down the phone line "It's the Drakes; they're gone."

The Drakes… but that means Tim- his hand immediately went to the mobile in his pocket to check for any messages, missed calls… anything

"What?! When did this happen?" there was no need to _put on_ the worried parent voice; it was all natural.

"This afternoon, Bruce, where's Tim?"

"Out at the park… Alfred is picking him and a friend up from there after school, they should-" he heard the slam of the front door telling him they here back, and he couldn't help but sigh with relief "in fact that was probably them, if you just hold on a minute" he charged out of his office and to the grand staircase which had an all-encompassing view of the entrance hall.

His head moved rapidly from side to side trying to find Tim, in case he had run to a corner to put something down; Tim wasn't there. "Alfred, where's Tim?"

"Master Bruce, he's-" _been taken_.

"Bruce, Bruce what is it? What's going on?" The commissioner's voice was coming through the hand set loud and clear but Bruce was only half hearing it, he was more concerned that _his son_ was not at home where he _should_ be.

"Commissioner; Tim's gone. They've taken him"

* * *

_3:45 pm_

Three squad cars and about a dozen police arrive at the manor, each looking a different shade of angry.

"I want officers tapping the phone lines just in case they call and I want some others to go over to the Drake house, see if you can find _anything_ that could give us some indication of where they might be going… friends they have on this side of the country, places they've frequented, restaurant chains they like… anything." The Commissioner didn't even look at his colleagues as he made his way to the front of the building where the Wayne family were patiently waiting;

"Is there any news Mr Gordon?"

"No Dick, sorry, nothing so far. Although we do have a APB out for the van Stephanie described and the Drakes, we've also put out an Amber Alert, we'll find him. No ransom call I'm guessing?"

"Were you expecting one?" they surly weren't. No, the Drakes had taken Tim for one reason and one reason only; to have him, to own him. To them he was a piece of property that rightfully belonged to them. It sickened Bruce.

"No, but one can only hope, right? They may have taken Tim as leverage to get out of the country?" his tone was hopeful and yet he knew it was wrong… they all knew it.

* * *

_6:53 pm_

"Commissioner, we may have something" a uniform hurried into the dining room where they were all waiting.

"What is it Carson?"

"Station just got a call form a hotel assistant, a man woman and child matching the Drake's description have just checked into the Sunrise Motel, just off the I-95."

"The I-95? What are they doing out there? If they want to get out of the country then Atlantic City International is closest…" it was quite puzzling because Dick was right Atlantic City was closest, then Philadelphia, then New York even… but it looked as though they were heading to D.C. or Baltimore.

"Perhaps they need to get something before they travel… they must know we're on to them so they'd need new names, new faces… new passports" Jason offered and heads turned.

"He's right" the Commissioner said, smiling at Jason before turning once more to his men, " I want as many squads on their way there as possible, notify local police forces also, but tell them not to engage until we get there, just surveillance, you got it?"

"Yes sir"

"Alright, let's move" he turned back to the table "Don't worry Bruce we'll get Tim back"

"I know you will Commissioner" and they were gone.

* * *

_6:58 pm_

"So we're going right?" Dick asked as he ran towards the entrance of the cave

"No, I'm going, you two are staying here with Alfred."

"But-"

"No buts, I'm taking the fast car, there is only two seats… you two are staying home, okay?" they nodded, obviously jaded at the fact that they could not help get their brother back… "You can monitor in the cave if you want…"

"Yes!"

"Yeah!"

He smiled as he got in the Batmobile, "I'll be back soon _with_ Tim" they gave their thumbs up and he revved the engine; he _was_ going to get his son back, everything else be damned.

* * *

_9:00 pm_

The Sunrise Motel was not somewhere he expected the Drakes to be; it was cold, damp and rundown. Its sign flickered and buzzed as the Batmobile silently pulled up behind the Police officers cars.

"Umm, sarge" one of the men pointed to him, but he simply ignored them and carried on to his goal.

The desk girl, obviously shaken by his presence, quickly gave him their room number: 187. It wasn't that hard to find either and old locks are the easiest to pick.

He expected more from a couple who had broken out of Blackgate.

Though he hadn't expected to see Tim curled up on the dirty floor shivering; he pressed his finger to his mouth, though it's not like he expected Tim would make a noise anyway. Tim was always quiet.

Too quiet.

And it wasn't until they were in the Batmobile that he even so much as squeaked

"Please Mr Wayne, don't leave; I'm scared" he's sure his eye went wide under his cowl, that was… unexpected, but strangely enough it made him so very proud, and he smiled.

"Officer, if you don't mind I'm going to take Tim here back to Gotham, there is a family there that is fretting with worry. I take it you can handle the escapees without my help" it wasn't a question, but a statement.

"Y-y-yes of course Mister Batman" he go into the Batmobile, not bothering to respond, and sped off home.

* * *

_11:00 pm_

As soon as Tim was asleep (which didn't take too long) he radioed the cave, telling them everything, but most importantly that Tim knew everything as well.

He wasn't surprised to see them all in the cave as they arrived home.

He also wasn't surprised at the bone crushing hug they gave their little brother.

"We're so glad you're okay Tim"

"Yeah, you're home now Babybird" Tim looked up at them with the largest smile on his face that they had ever seen in his time at the manor.

"I know" Bruce's chest was suddenly filled with a warmth that he usually only connected with Alfred's hot chocolate, it made him smile that little bit more as he carried Tim up to bed and asked Alfred to inform the Commissioner that Batman had returned his son home safely.

* * *

_3:28 am_

Bruce had decided to stay with Tim that night, and he was glad he did.

Tim woke up a shaking sweating mess so many times it felt as though Bruce's heart was being ripped out every time a sob shook his son's body.

This time was different though, this time no mere soothing words or comforting hugs managed to calm him.

"Mr Wayne?" his name was muffled a bit but he still managed to catch the whisper,

"Yes Tim?"

"Please may you teach me?" he held Tim out, a confused look on his face,

"Teach you?"

"Please. Teach me, train me like you did Dick and Jason..." he couldn't do that, Tim couldn't join them, not until he was much much older and stronger and less likely to break in half at the slightest gust of wind.

"Tim that's danger-"

"I don't wish to go out with you... I, I just don't want to be afraid anymore."

He pulled Tim closer to him, he knew exactly what that felt like, it was the driving force behind him going out and training around the world, it was the reason for his crusade, his mission so,

"Of course I will Tim."


	25. Nightmares

**So it was my Birthday yesterday and I am currently doing prompts over on Tumblr... If anyone wants to prompt me something (it can be anything at all) feel free to leave it in a review or a PM XD**

* * *

Tim stared at the ceiling breathing hard, sweat rolling down his forehead. It was just so dark, and there were so many of them, so many eyes, hands, growls.

A faceless darkness of unimaginable things. A darkness that grew and grew every time his parents left on a trip; every time that Tim did something bad, something he wasn't supposed to.

It was nights like this that Tim wouldn't sleep, he'd sit, a small touch lamp on under his bed and his main light on in his room staring at the darkness under his wardrobe door; because all monsters come from either under the bed or in the wardrobe, and you can keep them at bay by lighting the said areas, or keep looking at them.

The monsters don't come out if you can see them.

That's what all his books told him.

It worked at home, Tim would spend countless nights sitting on his bed, but here, here was different, he wasn't in his own empty house where he had no one but himself, this house was full of people, and different expectations.

They didn't go away, or shout at him, in fact they didn't do anything to him at all, apart from hug him and look at him with this expression he couldn't quite place.

But that didn't mean he could have the light on all night… whenever he had it on when his parents were home they would come in, turn the light off under his bed, force him under the covers and switch his main light off all the while telling him that he was a big boy now and that being afraid of monsters was childish, and that he would learn that the world was full of monsters, he just had to deal with it.

Tim spent the night in a sweaty mess.

But perhaps… perhaps here he doesn't have to be… perhaps Mr Wayne would let him at lease have a light on under his bed…

The thought sprung hope in Tim's head and he bolted out of his room, only to run head first into another body.

"Timmy? Are you okay?"

Tim had been so caught up in the idea of being allowed to sleep with a light on, that he hadn't thought out what he was going to do when he found someone.

"Timmy?" Dick's hand pressed to Tim's forehead, "Timmy you're all clammy, what's up? Are you feeling alright?" Tim nodded, words failing him.

"Nightmares" Tim nodded again and Dick crushed him into a bone crunching hug.

"Hey Dick do you kno- Tim, what's up with Babybird?"

"Nightmares"

"Oh" Tim could feel Dick mouthing things at Jason, who was probably mouthing replies, but he didn't really care about not being included on the conversation, he was used to it by now and Dick was just so warm…

"Hey Timmy" the movement of being held at arm's length snapped him out of his sort of trance more than the address did.

Tim blinked, indicating that he was listening by looking dick straight in the eye. Dick was smiling calm and kind,

"How about you come sleep with Jason and I tonight, and we can fight the nightmares away"

"Really?"

"Yeah" and Tim once again found himself squished between the two older boys… his _brothers_.

And that in itself could chase away any nightmare he had.


	26. It's Just Not Possible

**For lilitu-w-love who prompted:**

**Birthday Prompt- Anything at all from your Home alone verse, especially Dad-son bonding between Tim and Bruce or Cass being introduced and sticking to Tim so they can be quite little babies together. **

* * *

It was obvious the man loved his son, it was in the way he moved, the way he gently held the boy close, the way he shielded the boy from photographers.

It was in the way he smiled at him like no one else, the soft touches of re-assurance, the way he tucked the boy into bed that night.

It was something Cass had never seen before.

The boy; Tim, showed it too. In the way he clung just a little too tight, as though the man… Bruce (Dad) was the only thing he had left in the world. She had seem men behave in these ways, in their last few minutes alive many showed what it was that meant the most to them.

Usually it was money, possessions, husbands and wives.

But she could see the glint in Tim's eyes as Bruce smiled at him, Bruce was Tim's world.

Perhaps that's what a father should be like?

* * *

"Tim, this is Cassandra. She's your new sister. Her dad was a very bad man, and she doesn't speak much so you've got to be extra nice okay?"

* * *

The boy nods, and _grins_, his cheeks raise just that little bit more, his lips aren't as thin and he shows more teeth he's… sincere?

So Cass, for the first time in her life, takes a _gamble_, an uncalculated risk, and comes out from behind Bruce's legs to approach her new shorter and younger sibling.

She doesn't quite know what to do… this isn't some mission set to her by Cain… there is no point and strike here, just a little boy smiling, catching her hand and dragging her off to a bed- her bed- babbling something… she doesn't understand the words but she can see from his body, his face, that he is happy and excited.

She is making him act this way, a way she has only seen him act around Bruce? It makes an indescribable feeling toss in her stomach, a warm fluttering sensation.

* * *

"Dad, can you read us a bedtime story?" He laughs

"Of course I can, here, I'll get the covers"

* * *

The man- Bruce… she _will_ remember that- or better yet _dad_, smiles at her, the way he smiled at Tim.

As though she meant the world to him.

And he tucks her in against the smaller boy, who was cuddling up into her lap, in the same way he tucked in Tim.

Does that mean he loves her too? But he can't Cass is but a weapon, a tool for her father to use.

Bruce… _Dad?_ Has only just met her… there's no way that the identical press of lips to both their foreheads mean he thinks of them the same way…

There's no way.

* * *

But perhaps it does.


	27. Let Me Beat Them Up

**For this prompt: **

_'Home Alone' verse. Jason accidentally cusses in front of Tim. Innocently and adorably, Tim repeats this in the same kind of situation. In front of Bruce, Alfred, and Dick. Cue more adorableness and just yay._

**I changed it a little… and also fought a mental block over swearing (seriously it took me ages to write it simply because of that)… be proud XD (I also had to ask what it meant… heh… that in no way shape or form makes me cute or adorable though I may be a little innocent...) **

* * *

Tim had been called a lot of things before; Timothy, Timmy, Tim, Kid, Son, Babybird, Little Brother… But never Bitch.

As far as he knew a bitch was a female dog… and he's pretty much sure he's not a dog… nor is he female. So it was perfectly acceptable that he was a little confused, right?

When he didn't react they boys who said it looked quite jaded and simply walked on, was he supposed to react? Was it some sort of code that he was supposed to know? He had only been coming here for a week and a half, was this supposed to be something he should learn?

Tim just decided to ask Dick and Jason about it after school. Dick and Jason knew everything… well not as much as Mr Wayne and Mr Wayne didn't know as much as Mr Pennyworth; so perhaps he should ask him. But Mr Pennyworth was a busy man, so he should probably just ask Dick and Jason.

Tim could hold his questions in for another hour and a half.

* * *

It ended up being longer than an hour and a half, infact it was just before his bedtime that they were all in the same room together and watching the news on television.

"Jason?"

"Yeah Babybird?" his brother looked over at him, concern in his eyes (TIm hardly ever spoke when the news was on, he was always far too concerned with what's going on in the world),

"What does 'Bitch' mean?"

Jason coughed on his own breath, Dick spat out the water he was currently drinking and Mr Wayne shifted Tim a little on his lap, so he could look at him properly.

"Where did you hear that Tim?"

"These boys called me it at school… I just don't know what it means, I'm sorry Mr Wayne, am I not supposed to know about it? Is it some sort of special school code that I'm not allowed to know?" Tim's voice started to waver, higher pitches breaking into it slightly as he started to panic.

There was suddenly a hand rubbing circles on his back and two arms cuddling him close,

"No Timmy, it's not some sort of special school code, it's… it's…"

"Those boys weren't being very nice to you Tim."

"The-they weren't Mr Wayne?"

"No they weren't, who were they because I'm going to fuc-"

"Jason!"

"-udgeing kill them"

"Jason!"

"What, it's true, they deserve to have the snot kicked out of them"

Mr Wayne rolled his eyes and Dick giggled a little, Tim just smiled,

"I'm sorry, I still don't quite understand?" Mr Wayne picked him up and turned him round completely, so that Tim was sitting on the man's knees and they were facing each other.

"What those boys said-"

"Bitch" Mr wayne grimaced a little

"Yes that, that's a really nasty thing to say. Those boys were trying to get a reaction from you, they were probably trying to make you cry."

"They're huge bullies who don't care about what they say or who they say it to, they're complete idiots and I will mess them up…"

"No Jason you won't"

"But DAD!"

"Jason, please… Dick could you take your brother outside for a moment, I'm going to talk to Tim alone, then I'm going to put him to bed, and then we are going to talk."

The two left the room, albeit reluctantly.

"Tim you have to promise me you won't use those words again, okay?" he nodded, "Good. Now, do you remember what these boys looked like?"

Tim tried to remember, he really did,

"All I can remember is that they had these really weird jumpers on some sort of crest… a bull, I think with stars around it… I'm sorry I'm not quite sure."

"That's okay Tim, I wasn't expecting you to." Mr Wayne smiled at him and, to Tim's protest, carried him to his room, tucking him securely under the covers. "Goodnight Tim."

"Goodnight Mr Wayne." and he was gone.

* * *

"Jason, the boys were most probably the Gazette twins, don't beat them up too badly, they probably need their legs… probably."

Jason grinned, "You got it Boss."

Nobody messed with their Timmy and got away with it.


End file.
